Celeste Malfoy: Homeward Bound
by Moxie
Summary: Sequel to Celeste Malfoy: The Wild Child. A year has passed... now, where to stay the summer?
1. Do You Believe in Magic?

"D'you believe in magic?

In a young girl's heart,

How the music can free her,

Whenever it starts?

'Cause it's magic....."

Those melodic words were belted out of an old, weary radio that Celeste found in the trash near Hogsmeade. Unfortunately, it would only get one station in clearly, and that was a muggle oldies station. So, gurgling the song deep in her throat, Celeste Malfoy went back to folding up her robes and piling them in a trunk.

It was the last week of school, and everybody had been packing up. That was, except for Celeste, who had been totally blind to the fact until someone told her so. That was why she was down in her basement dorm room, packing, while everyone else was outside in the sunshine. Celeste was rather sorry to see the end of the school year come.

"If you believe in magic,

Come along with me,

We'll dance until morning,

just you and me....."

Folding up her last two robes, she piled them by her bedside along with a nightdress, and surveyed her open trunk.

"Money pouch, potion ingredients, potion vials, extra parchment, exam finals..." she murmured to herself, tapping her finger against her palm as she counted. There was a voice behind her.

"Missing this?" it asked. Next thing Celeste knew was her staff was flying through the air, and she grabbed it with her left hand.

The owner of the voice was Pansy Parkenson, and she was leaning against the doorframe, her long, dirty blond hair lopped over a light brown eye. On the one eyelid that Celeste could see was a light brushing of green eyeshadow, and her bony cheekbones were made to look even bonier with orangish rouge. Celeste made a face. Pansy looked like an updone clown, but she thought it best not to say anything.

"Yeah, thanks," Celeste said shortly. In all of her time here, Celeste had never taken much of a shine to Pansy, though Pansy had been trying to get chummy with Celeste all year.

Pansy surveyed the room. "Where are Tweedledee and Tweedledum?" she asked, rubbing her fingernails on the chest of her robe.

"If you mean Sunsmear and Nightshade, they're outside with everybody else," Celeste replied rigidly, as she did not like to hear her dragons referred to as 'Tweedledee' and 'Tweedledum'.

"'Cause it's magic, 

if the music is right,

I'll meet you tomorrow,

so late at night...." the old radio blared.

Pansy left her stake by the doorframe and walked up to the radio, fiddling with the several black knobs before finding the one that turned it down. "So," she said, letting go of the radio, "what are you planning to do this summer?"

Celeste sighed. She was in no mood for small talk. "I dunno. I never gave it that much thought. I suppose I'll just spend my time lazing around the farm."

Pansy pushed her hair out of her face and looked at Celeste oddly. "Farm? The Malfoys don't own a farm. They own a manor."

Celeste looked back at Pansy. "What?" she asked.

"You are going back with Draco, right?" Pansy said in reply, curiously.

Celeste sat on her bed. She never really given much thought about where Draco lived before. She had heard a manor mentioned a couple of times, but never enough to make Celeste think about it. She had also heard something about a 'Lucius Malfoy', though she had never really stopped to think about that either.

"I-I don't really know," Celeste said distantly. "I had always assumed that I would be going back to the farm to live with the Kormics."

Pansy's eyes widened. "Well, now that you know, you are going back to the Malfoys, right?"

Celeste shook her head. "I-I don't know about that either," she replied uncertainly.

Pansy looked at her incredulously. "You mean to tell me that you're going to give up a chance to live on a manor to go work on some old backwoods farm. You're joking."

"It is not some old backwoods farm!" Celeste shot back hotly. "It happens to be one of my favorite places! Besides," she said a bit softer, "I'm not exactly sure if I would be welcomed back or not. Why was I abandoned in the first place, then?"

Pansy shook her head. "You're crazy. But I'm sure that Mr. Malfoy would be quite pleased to see you back. There might have been a hospital mix-up, or something. Anyway, you've got that Wild stuff in you, and you defeated two...two things with it. He'd probably be proud."

Celeste didn't say anything, but she took out a handkerchief and started to rub at the cracked crystal at the top of her staff like a madwoman.

"Why don't you get a new staff, or something?" asked Pansy, changing the subject. "That one's cracked."

"No joke, jack," Celeste snapped back. "I like it cracked. It gives it character, I s'pose. I don't think that I could get a new one anyway. At least, nobody's mentioned it other than you."

Pansy shrugged. "I'm going outside now. Wanna come?" 

Celeste shook her head. "Nah. I've got to.....got to....finish packing. Maybe later."

"Suit yourself," Pansy replied smoothly as she walked out of the room, hips swinging erratically. On her way out, Pansy gave a knob on the radio a quick twist, sending the volume soaring.

"And we'll go dancin',

baby, then you'll see,

how the magic's in the music,

and the music's in me....." the radio sang, slightly static laced from Pansy twisting the knobs.

Celeste walked up to it, and pulled the plug. The music slowed, distorted itself, and finally was reduced to mere crackling from the speakers before leading off into silence.

Twirling the cord of the radio like a lasso, Celeste gnawed on her tongue and thought. Where was she going this summer, anyhow? Did anybody really care? Was there a valid reason for her being thrown around in foster homes and the like, while her brother lived at a manor?

Head spinning from unanswerable questions, Celeste dropped the cord she held and started for the door. Fresh air would make her head clear and give her time to think.

It always did. 

# # #

Music again.

"D'you believe in magic..." Draco heard in his ears.

Putting down his quill with a grumpy huff, Draco massaged his temples until the tune was gone. It was all right having a telepathic link to other people if you wanted to have a mind-to-mind conversation with the other person, but when you didn't, it was plain annoying. At least Celeste couldn't read his thoughts, he thought. That would be torture.

Looking down at his parchment again, Draco sighed a little and tapped the paper with the tip of his finger. He couldn't believe that McGonagall had given them homework, when the last day of actual school was tomorrow!

Picking up his quill again, he looked over his paper. Four wand waves and 'Priker' to turn a pincushion into a porcupine. Fifteen side swoops and 'Lyter' to turn a flame into a fire fly. 'Pignatious', and....and...Now what was it to turn a desk into a pig again?

Looking over, he saw Crabbe and Goyle pointing around at various things and cracking up for some unbeknownst reason. Rolling his eyes into the back of his head, he leaned in his chair and popped one of his knuckles. Good luck either of them would know.

Well, he thought to himself sleepily. That's what sisters and telepathic links are for, isn't it?

*Celeste?* he called. *Oh Celllesteeee!*

There was silence for a couple of moments, and then a sound of crackling, as if someone was tuning in a radio.

*What?* came the unmistakable sound/feeling of Celeste's voice.

Draco jumped a tad at the seriously irritated sound of her voice. *Meow. Bite my head off, why don't you?*

*I will, and I'll take great pleasure in doing so! What do you want?*

*I want to know how to turn a desk into a pig. Didn't you learn about that in Animal Transfigurations, or whatever you take?*

There was something of an exasperated sigh before Celeste answered. *'Pignatious', twenty-five flicks, and I think that's it. Happy?*

Draco copied her words down on his parchment, and sighed happily at the completed homework.

*I'm thrilled. What's eating you?* he asked as he re-screwed the top on his jar of ink.

*Nothing's eating me. But if you like, I can send something up to eat you,* his sister replied pertly.

Draco gave something of a wry smile before replying. *Ha ha ha. I wouldn't doubt it either. Looking forward to the end of school?*

There was a short pause on Celeste's end of the conversation. *I guess so. I like school, though. Don't you?*

*I also like sticking pins under my fingernails and being beaten over the head with gigantic iron clubs,* he retorted snottily.

*Really? You'll have to remind me about that. I'm sure it could be arranged. But seriously. What are you doing this summer?*

*I'm going home,* he sent back, a bit surprised. *Aren't you?*

*It depends on what you consider home. I think that I'm going to go back to the farm for summer. That is, with the Kormics. Do you mind?*

It was now Draco's turn to momentarily pause before answering. *What? I thought that you would be coming back with me!*

*You thought wrong, obviously,* Celeste calmly replied back.

*Don't you want to meet Mother and Father? After all of those years?* Draco whined at her.

*Not especially. Use your head, for once. Why do you think that we didn't know anything about each other until about six months ago? I don't think that it was an accident...*

*It had to have been! Are you suggesting that they just...just left you?*

*Yes.*

*That's not true!*

*How do you know?*

*Because....because.....!*

*Hah. See, you don't. Of course, I don't have any proof otherwise, but I have this terrible feeling that it won't exactly be a picture perfect reunion.*

Draco sighed in defeat. *I still say that that's not true. But why don't you go back to that stupid farm that you like so much for half of the summer, and then come back home for the rest of it? Since I know by now that it's no good convincing you otherwise when you've made up your mind.*

There was more silence. *Remind me to hit you over the head next time I see you for calling the farm stupid. Fine. I'll humor you. Tell your - our - folks that there's a visitor coming somewhere around the middle of July. But don't say anything more that that. This'll be a surprise..for everyone, I suppose.*

And with those words, there was a sound like someone slammed a receiver down on a telephone, and Draco knew that Celeste had cut off all further telepathic conversation. With a sigh, he shut a book, shelved it, and left the library, homework in hand.

Sisters could be so confusing. 

# # #

In the hidden cavern somewhere off in Bulgaria, Synthia Grindelwald leaned against the cool walls of the cave. Being cramped up in an underground rock formation with two pathetic excuses for minions could get dreadfully tiresome at times, Synthia thought amusedly.

It had taken a deal of time and some overly obsequious gestures, but Snare and Craggle had finally gotten back in their mistress's favor, in a kinda-sorta way. Well, at any rate, she had stopped giving them both death-stares when she met them along the long, cavernous hallways of the cave where they lived. They could only hope that that was a good sign.

"Anything elssse, misssstresss?" Craggle rasped, ruining Synthia's peaceful, quiet time.

Synthia groaned and rubbed the back of her neck. "No. Not really."

Snare and Craggle exchanged glances. Synthia was actually being tolerant for once. Something must be the matter. 

"Isss sssomthing wrong?" Snare asked timidly. Synthia fixed Snare under a green-blue eyed stare before answering.

"No. I was just thinking about muggle cartoons," she said distantly.

"What about them?" asked Craggle respectfully. He knew nothing about 'cartoons', or even what the word meant. Even so, after years of experience, when Synthia started to talk about confusing things, he found it best to smile and nod, rather than ask questions. It was less painful that way.

"I was thinking about the antagonists of the stories, you know, the bad guys. They always try the same thing over and over again, and always end up failing at it, at the hands of the protagonists - the good guys. I'm afraid that I'm turning into one of them," she explained lightly, rising to her feet.

Craggle and Snare exchanged glances. "What do you mean?" Snare asked. 

Synthia shook her head. "You two slime brains wouldn't understand. I'm-we're, we're going to try a little something again."

There was silence for a couple of moments. Then Snare unwisely groaned and slapped a three-fingered hand to his head. "You're not telling usssss...." he hissed miserably.

"And just why not? We're more prepared this time. After all that you've told me, we can be ready for everything that can be thrown at us. It'll be foolproof," Synthia proclaimed.

"And we're jusssst the foolssss to prove it too," Craggle whispered to Snare, who nodded. Synthia wasn't paying attention, and didn't hear.

"Craggle, cauldron, now. Snare, materials for fire. We've got a spell to cast," she said.

As Snare and Craggle rushed about to do her bidding, Synthia sighed. She felt so stupid doing this. But this really wasn't about the power anymore. It was more about revenge. Synthia Grindelwald had been made to look the fool, and by the gods, she was going to avenge herself.

And the addition of the Wild power would be a nice bonus, too.

# # #

Celeste slipped outside. It was too crowded inside of the Great Hall, and especially because tonight was the night they announced the winners of the House Cup, emotions were running particularly high. She really didn't feel like being in the middle of some pointless Slytherin Gryffindor brawl.

Whistling between her teeth and clicking her tongue slightly, she was rewarded by two blurs running up to her. Nightshade and Sunsmear had grown and matured considerably since the time that Celeste had met them almost half a year ago. Both were nearly five feet tall, and had an obsession with Hagrid that had started about three months ago. Hagrid had always wanted a dragon, and Celeste was all too happy to encourage the relationship. Hagrid was the only person, save Celeste and the Kormics, that could actually handle the dragons without getting severely burnt or bitten in the process.

Celeste absently patted Sunsmear's head, and he nuzzled her hand affectionately.

"We're going back home to the farm tomorrow, okay? How does that sound?" Celeste asked the dragon in her sing-songy voice that she always used with her reptiles. Sumsmear snorted happily, and a puff of white smoke came out of his nostrils.

"Why don't you two go visit with Hagrid, hmm? Today's the last day you're going to be able to see him for a while, now. Go on, I'll call you when it's time to come in."

The two dragons nodded obediently, and Nightshade took off like a streak of black ink against the grass, and Sunsmear was not far behind, in the race to Hagrid's hut.

Rubbing the top of her skull with a hand, Celeste walked in the opposite direction, towards the lake with the giant squid. Taking a few strides towards the Forbidden Forest, Celeste hoisted herself into the lower branches of a sturdy oak.

Climbing higher and higher up, Celeste absently hoped that nobody was looking for her. Finally reaching the topmost branches that would support her weight; Celeste poked her head up through the loose twigs and leafy growth.

The sunset was beautiful. Molten gold washed the sky, followed by warm, rosy pinks, radiant oranges, and fiery reds. The sun sank lazily beyond the horizon, tinting the clouds something of a pinkish-red. The tops of the sky was awash with cool blues, a vibrant purple color, and a few fingers of a greenish haze wavered about like brightly colored snakes. On the other side of the horizon, the moon had started to rise, a bright white contrasting with the array of colors blotting the sky.

Celeste sighed. "As if God himself took a paintbrush and colored it," she murmured happily, setting herself in a comfortably niche in the knot of branches she was sitting on.

There was a loud, arousing cheer from behind her, followed by screams of happiness, the loud thump of many people running around, and all together, the odd chorus of jubilation from the house that won. Celeste yawned and rested her head against the trunk of the tree.

*Who won?* she asked her brother, who was amongst all of the chaos in the Great Hall.

*Gryffindor. Who else?* came the snappish, annoyed reply. *They always do! It isn't fair! We lost by one point! ONE POINT!* he screamed.

Celeste sighed, and peeked at the sunset again. The sky was too beautiful, the weather was too perfect, and she was too content to get worked up over something stupid like the House Cup.

*Later, later. Tell me later. I'm kinda busy right now,* Celeste protested. She cut the telepathic link and looked down at the lush carpet of foliage that was the Forbidden Forest in every shade of green imaginable, spreading at her feet like an oversized tapestry.

"Yeah, Celeste. You're busy doing nothing," Celeste scolded herself, smiling at her own foolishness.

It didn't matter. She was spontaneously happy, and life was perfect.

For now.

# # # 

"Celeste, you can sit next to me," Katelin Kormic declared, grabbing Celeste's hand and yanking her towards one of the train compartments.

Celeste turned and waved to the Slytherins, who were boarding on five cars farthest from the engine.

"Bye you all! See you next year. Love you, mean it, ciao!" she shouted. Some of the Slytherins turned and waved back timidly, while others just stared awkwardly at the copper-robed figure that disappeared in the swirl of black robes that was the rest of the school. A boy named Carl Ligmon poked Draco in the ribs.

"She's an odd one, your sister," he pointed out to him.

Draco sighed. "That she is. Now move it," he said coldly, giving Carl a slight shove up the stairs.

Meanwhile, Celeste and her dragons had climbed into a compartment that was slightly closer to the front of the train, and flopped into one of the maroon chairs.

"Well, that's another year come and gone," Katelin said as the train started to rumble into movement.

"Well, yes. I don't know whether to consider that a curse or a blessing," she sighed as Nightshade twirled Celeste's staff around her scaly fingers like a baton.

"I'd consider that a blessing. You passed the school year, and you get an entire summer of rest. Doesn't that sound fine?" Katelin asked dreamily as Celeste snatched her staff back from Nightshade.

"I guess so, Kate," Celeste replied heavily, calling Katelin by her pet name. As the castle that was Hogwarts disappeared behind a large hill, she started munching on her lips.

"Make that half a summer of rest," she mumbled gloomily as she thought of her soon to be family reunion.

# # # 

"Kate! Celeste! Nightshade! Sunsmear! Over here, over here!" came the shrilly welcoming voice of Cindy Kormic over the hum of the crowd.

Celeste's face, which had been solemn and frowning since the beginning of the trip, broke into a wide grin when she heard that voice. It had been a while since she had had any kind of mothering, and she was fully ready to go back to the farm and be pampered by Cindy Kormic's cooking and such.

"Oh my dears, it's been so long! How was school? My, but Celeste, you're so skinny! What have they been feeding you? Kate, how did the exams go? And how are my favorite reptilian rascals?" Cindy babbled, trying to hug them all, ask questions, and grab their luggage at the same time. Celeste smiled even wider when Cindy started fussing over the events with the two reptile things and the Wild magic ("You could have been hurt! What were you thinking?")

Martin just chuckled at his wife and grabbed the two trunk carts and started pushing them, with a wink to Celeste.

"How was the school year, Celeste?" he asked her. 

"Very interesting," Celeste replied honestly, with a slight smile on her lips.

"That's good. The Pegasteeds have been asking for you ever since you left. They'll be glad that you're back," he said with a slight grunt as he heaved the two heavy carts forward.

"I suppose that I'll have a lot of explaining to do, won't I?" she asked him, fully grinning by now.

Martin laughed a bit. "That you will, missy, that you will."

And with that, they all piled their belongings in the back of an old Ford station wagon and drove to the farm, with Mr. Kormic driving erratically.

# # #

The first thing Celeste thought when she walked in the Kormic household was complete happiness and contentment. Everything was the same as she had left it. The furniture was in the same arrangement, the house still smelled of lemon cleaner, orange peelings, a bit of wood mustiness, and a faint trace of vanilla tobacco, and there was a pot on the stove that was burbling over with something delicious smelling. It was all the same, and Celeste loved it.

Running up to her room, she flopped on the bed, even loving the pinkness of it. Rolling over onto her side, she smiled at a single rose that was resting in a slightly chipped crystal vase. Nightshade and Sunsmear came in and fell onto the bed with her, drawing their long tails up under their snouts, and giving a slight wheeze of happiness. They were glad to be back too.

With two five-foot dragons curled up on the bed with her it was rather crowded, so she decided to get up. The dragons had fallen asleep and paid her no heed. Stripping out of her long mage robes, she clambered into a pair of old jeans and a black shirt. As much as she loved her robes, muggle clothes were so much more familiar and comfortable. Grabbing her staff (she knew that she didn't need it, but she had grown to like the look of it), she sprinted down the stairs and ran out into the green pastures of the Kormic's farm.

A gentle breeze blew, sending the farmlike smells of warm hay, sunbaked grass and animal feed to her nostrils. Celeste breathed deeply, trying to fill her nose, lungs and body with the sweet scent. There was nothing like it.

A nicker from behind her brought her out of her trance.

--I see you're back,-- the voice said. 

Celeste smiled. --It's good to see you too, Inca.--

--So, how was school?-- the Pegasteed asked.

Celeste was in no mood for small talk. Whirling around quickly, she threw her arms around the horse's neck, and gave it a small squeeze.

--You don't know how good it is to be back,-- she whispered. --You don't know.--

--I can see. Well, you can tell me all about it.--

The twosome walked around the fields together, not really doing much but talking. Celeste told Inca about Hogwarts, the two reptile things that she had fought, and about finding that Draco Malfoy was her brother, and knowing nothing about it. But she refrained from telling Inca about the reunion with her family that was supposedly taking place around the middle of summer.

--You abruptly stopped,-- Inca pointed out. --Something's wrong.--

--Well, not exactly.--

--Something's wrong,-- Inca persisted. --You're not a good liar, Celeste Malfoy.--

--All right, if you must know, I'm only spending half of the summer here. The other half I'm going back to the Malfoys, to meet my real family.--

Inca gave something of a disapproving snort, but did nothing. Noting this, Celeste talked on.

--I should be happy, thrilled, I suppose. But I'm not. I'm nervous, and I don't really want to go. I'd rather stay.--

--If you have living relatives, you should go. They have a right to see you, and take you back if they want to. But you are nervous for a good reason. If I had a knut, so the wizards say, for everytime I overheard an unsavory comment about the Malfoy family, I'd be a gallionare by now,-- Inca said with a touch of scorn in her voice.

--What do you mean?-- Celeste asked, curious.

--Supposedly,-- Inca began, --the Malfoys are deeply involved in the Dark Arts. They hate all muggle borns and muggles themselves, but worst of all, they are incredibly good as hiding it. Nobody has any proof of anything. The Malfoys claim that they got brainwashed, but nobody believes them. But there's no proof to prove those claims false. Plus, they're a very influential family, ridiculously rich and the like. And that's all I know. I hear Martin and his hired hands talking about it all of the time.--

Celeste felt like a giant had taken an icy hand and squeezed her insides with it. Was that what people thought of her when they heard her name? She felt suddenly chilly and ancient, and she didn't like the feeling.

--Great. That doesn't make it any better. I'm a member of an unscrupulous, prejudiced, evil-worshiping family. Perfect. Marvelous,-- Celeste groaned.

Inca shook her head. --You've got bad blood in you, Celeste, I won't deny it. But that doesn't mean that you have to be evil. You do whatever you want to do. Don't forget it. Look, there's Cindy. It's time for your dinner. It was nice talking to you, dearie.--

Celeste smiled faintly at Inca's mothering. --You too, you old feed bag. I'll see you later.--

Inca gave something of a smile before trotting off. Celeste, having some food for thought, walked slowly back to the old farmhouse.

# # #

Dinner that night was delicious, ravioli that was literally dripping in rich tomato sauce fresh baked bread, and garden salad. It was clear that Mrs. Kormic had really outdone herself for their return, and even Celeste was able to forget her problems as she ate and chatted lively with the Kormic family.

"Yeah, and the only subject I didn't get an OWL in was Potions," Katelin finished gloomily. Martin shook his head.

"Figures. Not anything bad against you, Katelin. Just...certain people grade on a severe curve, I guess you'd say. Ah well, how'd you do Celeste?"

"Err, well, I got an OWL in everything. Including Potions."

Cindy looked at her. "Very good, dear. And you didn't tell us yet, how was your year? We got a play-by-play analysis from Katelin, but nothing out of you yet."

Celeste stiffened slightly. "It was very...Interesting," she stuttered. She then quickly averted her attention to Sumsmear, who was getting tomato sauce all over the place.

Martin and Cindy looked at each other. "Interesting? That's all you have to say about your first year in the wizarding world?" Martin asked.

"Well, it *was* interesting. I made some friends...Learned about some subjects ...umm ...ummm.." she trailed off, blushing at the strange looks that the Kormics were giving her.

Twisting her napkin in her lap, Celeste threw all caution to the winds. "I.... I learned that I had a telepathic connection with...someone..."

Martin nearly threw his fork across the table in surprise. "A telepathic connection?! With whom?!"

"My...my...my..my..." Celeste started, the napkin in her lap now a tight rope.

Cindy nodded. "Your..." she said slowly, trying to pull the word out of Celeste's mouth. Celeste swallowed.

"Brother," she said abruptly. "Draco Malfoy. Ever heard of him?"

There was silence after she dropped this bombshell. The Kormics looked at each other in surprise. "A telepathic connection with your brother? You mean... you can speak mind-to-mind?" Katelin asked, thunderstruck.

"Well, yes, I suppose that that would be a good way to put it," Celeste said, reaching over the table for her glass of milk.

"When did you find out about this?" Cindy asked.

"Remember the day that Sunsmear stole your wand and I got teleported away? That's when I found out. It was like deja vu the moment I saw Draco. It was like... like I had seen him before and I knew him. It's hard to explain," Celeste said after she had put her milk down.

"I see," Martin said. "Now, what's going to happen, since you know who your real family is?" he asked.

Celeste swallowed. "I'm-I'm only spending half of the summer here. The other half I'm going back to Malfoy Manor... do you mind?" she asked quietly. She had to tell them sooner or later, but she was sorry that it had to be the first day she came back. Now there would be a gray raincloud hanging over everybody for the next month.

"Do the Malfoys know about this?" Cindy finally asked, awkwardly.

"Well, not exactly. It's going to be a surprise. For everybody, I suppose," Celeste finished ruefully.

There was more silence. Celeste sat until she thought that she could take it no longer. The quiet air seemed to be pressing into her from all sides, making it hard to breathe. Finally, she stood up.

"It's late and I'm tired. I think I'll be off to bed now. Nightshade, Sunsmear?" she called. The dragons got up and obediently followed her up the stairs into her pink room. The Kormics sat quietly until they could hear the door to Celeste's room close.

Cindy got up. "Katelin, dear, it is late. Why don't you go upstairs? Dad'll take care of chores tonight."

Katelin knew by her mother's tone of voice that this was not a time to disagree. "Yeah, Mum, sure." She got up out of her chair and left.

When she was gone, Cindy suddenly got up and started picking up plates and cups, while banging pots and pans around the sink.

Martin winced. "Is something the matter?" he asked stupidly.

"Yes, something's the matter! Celeste's leaving, and doesn't that bother you?!" she asked angrily, while swinging her wand like a club to wash the dishes.

"Well, we aren't her family, Cindy. She should have gone back a long time ago," he reasoned.

Cindy sighed. "I just don't think that she'll do too well over at the Malfoy household, if you know what I mean."

Martin laughed. "She'll do about as well as a fish does out of water! But that's not the point. Just don't worry about it too much. I have a feeling that Lucius is going to have his hands full when she gets over there."

Cindy smiled. "That he will. I guess you're right," she sighed.

Meanwhile, Celeste was up in her room, lying on her bed. She had a lot to think about, and it was all giving her a terrible headache. Rolling over onto her stomach, she looked at the pink wall and sighed. Some summer this was going to be. Rolling over again, Celeste Malfoy fell into slumber.

# # #

The thing that Celeste probably liked most about the farm was the fact that there were so many things to do, nearly all of them pleasant, and never any hurry about getting them done. Sure, there were chores and the like, but Celeste thought those fun, and went about her busy happily. After the first week or so, she had even forgotten about going to the Malfoy residence in mid-July.

One day, while riding around on Inca, with Sunsmear and Nightshade trotting along beside her, an owl intercepted them.

It was a large, brown owl, which perched on her shoulder and squawked a hello. From its talons hung a roll of parchment. Celeste took it and read it over.

Celeste-

I know I could be communicating to you by telepathic linking, but I don't want Father or Mother coming up from behind me when I do so. Is July fourteenth good for you? That's around the middle of summer. Write back.

-Draco

Celeste sighed, and had Inca take her back to her room. The owl and two dragons followed her upstairs. Making sure that nobody was around, she took out a quill and a slightly rumpled piece of parchment. Putting her tongue between her teeth, Celeste wet the tip of the quill and wrote.

Draco-

Yeah, the fourteenth is good for me. I'll just ride one of the Pegasteeds over there, I guess I'll see you soon.

-Celeste

Folding the parchment up, she handed it to the owl, which squawked again and took flight. As she watched the bird soar around the sky, she quickly counted on her fingers.

"Today is July tenth, that means that..." she trailed off as she ticked days off on her fingers. Her eyes widened when she finished. 

"That's four days from now!" she squeaked to herself. "Too soon, I'm not ready yet!"

Nightshade, sensing something wrong with her adopted mother, trotted over to Celeste and sat on her haunches next to her. She whimpered slightly, and Celeste patted her head.

"We're going off again in four days, Nightshade," she sighed quietly. She hadn't talked to Draco about bringing the dragons over, but if Draco wanted Celeste to meet his family, then Celeste's dragons were coming over too.

"Celeste! Dinner!" called Cindy up the stairs. Dropping her quill, Celeste followed her two dragons down the stairs.

# # #

Draco twirled his napkin ring around his finger nervously, only picking at his food. Three days had passed since he had sent that letter to Celeste and got a reply. She was coming tomorrow, and his parents were totally oblivious to the fact, that made him even more nervous.

He had planned everything out perfectly. The fourteenth of July was a day that the ministry had off, so he could rest assured his father would be home all day. For his mother, he had been intercepting the mail everyday, and burning party invitations and other social invites before the servants or his mother herself could get them. Everything was perfectly set up for Celeste to make a grand entrance.

"Draco, you're not eating," came a frosty voice from the left of him. Jumping three feet in the air, he whirled his head around to be rewarded by an icy blue stare from his mother.

Mrs. Malfoy was a very elegant creature by ways of body shape. Her skin was whiter than angel food cake, her fingers were thin and nimble, and she always sat in perfect posture. This contrasted against her dark brown hair, which was nearly always pulled into a bun, and icy blue eyes. She looked much like a porcelain doll that was not for playing with, for it was too delicate to handle.

"I'm fine, Mother," Draco replied clearly, feeling his father's gaze descend upon him as well. Draco didn't like his parents staring at him like this. It made him nervous beyond description. 

Mrs. Malfoy finally broke the staring contest and went back to eating her dinner in silence. Silence. The only thing that could be heard was silence, and it was so loud it made Draco's ears ring. Draco wanted to speak, just to hear some sound, but sound didn't seem to exist.

The silence was too powerful.

# # #

Celeste climbed up in the tallest, strongest tree in the Kormic's property. She remembered the sunset that she had seen the last night she was at Hogwarts, and she felt that she needed the color. The goodbyes that day had seemed to drain it all out of her.

Hoisting herself up the branches, she sighed. She didn't want to leave, and yet she did. She loved the farm and all of its occupants, but they weren't her real family. Her real family lived somewhere in a manor, and that's where she was going tomorrow. It was a lot to absorb.

Finally reaching the top branches, Celeste pushed the leaves that were in her way apart, and gazed at the sky.

There was no sunset that night, a bluish twilight settled about the sky like some sort of mystical fog, and Celeste sighed as she looked at it. It was pretty, but she would have preferred to see warm colors splash against the sky.

The one thing that would be a relief about Malfoy Manor was that there would still be sunsets, and Celeste could still look at them.

Watching some silver-edged clouds float about the sky, Celeste bit her lip slightly before watching the moonrise. She didn't know what to think about what would come tomorrow.

After nearly fifteen long years, Celeste Malfoy was going home.

# # #

I'm sitting in the railway station,

'got a ticket for my destination.

On a tour of one-night stands my suitcase and guitar in hand,

and Ev'ry stop is neatly planned for a poet and one-man band.

I wish I was,

Homeward Bound,

Home where my thought's escaping,

Home where the music's playing,

Home where my love lies waiting,

Silently for me.....

# # #

Author's Note: This is obviously a continuation of 'Wild Child', because I was reading it through, and I saw all of the plot holes in it! This sequel was supposed to be out a long time ago, but I got side tracked by 'The Attack', and NOSS (Nobles, Orphans, Street rats and Scholars), was about five installments longer then it was supposed to be....-_-. I got the idea when I was listening to the radio and I heard 'Homeward Bound' on the radio! (My computer is REALLY screwed up, so if the Italics are off or anything, that's why. The spellchecker is broken two, which isn't a good thing....^_^;;)

Disclaimer: Celeste Malfoy is mine, this particular version of Mrs. Malfoy is mine (but the idea for her belongs to J.K. Rowling!), the Kormics are mine, Sunsmear and Nightshade are mine! The idea for Wild magic is not mine, all characters that J.K. Rowling made up are not mine, and the song 'Do you Believe in Magic' belongs to whomever wrote and sung it (I don't know who!) and 'Homeward Bound' belongs to Simon and Garfunkle! That's it, I think...


	2. Bad Moon Rising

Celeste awoke the next morning with a feeling of immense dread, though in the early morning haze of her mind, she couldn't figure out what she was dreading. The next thought that entered her sleepy brain was why she was up so early. Was something wrong?

"You need to get up, Celeste. You leave today," came the soft voice of Cindy Kormic. Celeste still didn't know why she was up so early, and why she was somehow dreading the day that was set before her.

"Leaving?" croaked Celeste. "Leaving to go..." she started, but then the memories of the last couple of months came cascading to her like a sudden rush of cold water. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head, and she flung off the covers.

"I remember now. Thanks for waking me up," Celeste yawned, rubbing her eyes. Cindy nodded and turned to leave so Celeste could get dressed. Was she seeing things, or did Celeste see Cindy's lip tremble?

"God, no," Celeste groaned, rising out of bed and plucking a copper robe off of the floor. "It's enough that I have to leave, but it's worse if they miss me."

It was odd, the feeling that she was being missed severely. It was kind of a nice feeling, in a sick way. It was nice to know that she was wanted, but it was terrible to think that she would make people suffer by leaving. It made her head ache, so Celeste pushed the thought out of her head.

Walking up to the small mirror that was hammered onto the pink wall, Celeste undid her hair. Sometimes she hated being so fair-skinned and light all around, but she did like her hair. It was long and thick, and almost reached the tips of her fingers. She had always liked her hair short, but since she had a sibling that nearly looked identical to her, she thought it best to keep her hair long so that she wouldn't be mistaken for Draco from behind.

Sighing, she wound her hair into a long braid, and tied it into a knot at the end. Walking over to her nightstand, she picked up her chipped crystal wand. Grinning, she walked back over to the mirror and struck a dramatic pose. Celeste loved the way she looked in full mage garb.

Walking back over to the other side of the room once more, she kicked lightly at her dragons until they arose from sleep.

"Get up, you two. It's time to go. You can sleep later. Time for breakfast," she cajoled them. At the mention of food, the Sunsmear and Nightshade drug themselves off of the ground and slowly plodded down the stairs.

When the dragons were gone, Celeste went about the room and threw all of her clothing and other belongings into a shoulderbag. Drawing the drawstring, she went downstairs to have her last meal with the Kormics.

# # #

Breakfast was silent, save for the noisy lapping of Sunsmear and Nightshade at their oatmeal. Feeling uneasy, Celeste ran her spoon around the sides of the bowl slowly, collecting a small bit of oatmeal.

Nobody was eating much. Celeste felt that she had a thousand birds fluttering against the lining of her stomach, and she couldn't bring herself to swallow. Sighing slowly, she dumped the rest of her oatmeal between Sunsmear and Nightshade, where they licked it up greedily.

"Celeste, dear, you should eat," Cindy said, putting down her spoon. Celeste gave her an incredulous look, because Cindy hadn't so much as touched her breakfast.

"I'm not too hungry, anyway. Don't worry about me," Celeste assured her, though she wasn't too sure that she was really okay. Maybe it would have been best if she had refused to go back with Draco at all.

Martin wiped his hands off on his napkin. "Have you packed?" he asked, as unemotionally as humanly possible. Celeste was a little hurt, but said nothing on the subject.

"Yeah. I packed this morning. I think that I'm ready to go," she replied. "When do I leave?"

Cindy pushed herself away from the table. "Didn't you say that you wanted to be at the Malfoy's by nine? It's eight-thirty right now. You should probably go," she said scratchily.

Celeste rose from the table, and looked at its three other occupants, who stared balefully back at her, sadly. Glancing towards her dragons, she saw that they had finished eating and were looking at her placidly, waiting for her next order. Celeste swallowed, not sure of what to say.

"Th-thank you," she whispered, before bolting out of the room. It wasn't exactly a stunning exit, nor a grateful one, but Celeste hated emotional good-byes. They made her uncomfortable.

Grabbing her staff, which had been leaning against the doorframe, she sprinted outside into the early morning fog, and waited for her dragons to catch up with her. Before they could, there was a slight nudge on her shoulder.

--Ready?-- asked the gentle hum of Inca's voice. Celeste watched as Nightshade and Sunsmear scampered to catch up with her. She nodded.

--Yes,-- Celeste agreed.

The ride to the Malfoy residence, while a quiet one, was a rather short one. Celeste had no idea how Inca knew where she was going, but she decided not to ponder over it too much. Shifting her pack on her back and gripping her staff a little tighter, she sighed as Inca led on through the billowing cloud of early morning fog that swirled about them like a poufy dress of some sort.

A half-hour later, Inca stopped in front of some sort of tall wall. It was slate-gray, and about thirty-five feet high. Reaching out to touch it, Celeste found that it was predictably, smooth and cool.

--This is as far as I can take you. Have a fun summer,-- Inca said while looking at the foreboding gray walls. 

Celeste grimaced. --I'm sure it'll be thrilling, -- she replied dryly. Inca gave something of an amused snort before disappearing in the cloud of fog.

"Well, c'mon," Celeste beckoned to her dragons as she started around the perimeter of the huge wall.

As they pushed their way through the thick white cloud cover, Celeste sighed. Just going here was bad enough, but the drab fog and dark gray sky weren't helping her mood that much. When they had been walking for about five minutes, Celeste and company finally came to a break in the barrier.

It was a large, double-door, wrought-iron gate. The iron had been twisted and melded into slithering snakes, intricate vines of ivy, and straight bars to block out anyone bold enough to intrude. In a small circle in the middle of the gate was a letter 'M' that had been welded in fancy script.

Beyond the gate, was a sight that shocked Celeste to the point that she almost fell over. A path that was wide enough to fit four muggle cars wound up to the front stoop of a sprawling mansion. Celeste remembered seeing Buckingham Palace in a history book somewhere. This place had to be at least twice that size, if not more. Malfoy Manor, however, didn't look exactly warm and welcoming. The manor was a dismal gray color, almost the same shade of the large wall in front of it. The appearance gave Celeste the impression that it had been built entirely out of dirty gray ice.

A voice interrupted Celeste's trance. "Please state your name and purpose, Ma'am," the polite but firm voice commanded.

Celeste looked around frantically for the source of the voice. Sunsmear pulled on her robe and pointed to a small speaker that had been etched into the wall. She assumed that this was it.

"Never mind the name. Just tell Mr. Malfoy that someone important is here to see him," Celeste said back into the speaker.

There was some rustling of movement, and a rumble of inaudible voices before the voice came back to the speaker again.

"I apologize, Ma'am. We do not accept solicitors-" it began, but Celeste cut it off.

"I'm not selling anything!"

There was another pause and more inaudible voices before the speaker spoke again.

"We don't donate to any funds or charities-" the voice began again. Celeste sighed.

"I'm not from a charity! Oh, good God. Just let me have a word with Draco Malfoy, would you?" she asked.

There was more creaking and static before a very befuddled Draco Malfoy spoke into the speaker.

"Hello?" he asked confusedly.

"Hi. Can you get your dunderhead speaker-speaker to let me in?" snarled Celeste. 

There was silence on the other end of the speaker for a couple of minutes.

"Celeste?" asked Draco, in a surprised tone of voice.

"No, it's not Celeste. It's Harry Potter, coming for a friendly visit. Who do you think it is?" Celeste screamed into the speaker.

"All right! I'll let you in! Don't kill me, Celeste. Why didn't you ask for me in the first place?" Draco asked.

Celeste didn't answer as the iron gates squeaked open on rusty hinges. Stepping in, she looked behind her to make sure that Nightshade and Sunsmear were still there, and walked down the path.

It may have just been the dismal gray light that was everywhere, but it didn't seem that Malfoy Manor had that much color to it at all. There were no kinds of flowers, nor bushes, the grass had been cropped close to the earth, and the trees looked half-dead.

Celeste walked up to the stoop, and stood in front of the gigantic French doors that loomed over her like sentry guards. She reached up to knock, but as her knuckles touched the wood, the door pushed open slightly.

Quietly walking in, Celeste beckoned to her dragons and shut the heavy door behind her. 

# # #

The entire summer had gone quite predictably, to Lucius Malfoy's standards. His son was home from Hogwarts, his wife was almost always out at some social event, and nothing out of the ordinary had happened for two whole months of summer vacation. Two more months to go until his son left again and the manor would settle back into its normal tempore.

That was, until the fateful day of July fourteenth, which would throw a metaphorical monkey wrench into Mr. Malfoy's perfectly normal summer.

He had been eating breakfast, when one of the butlers, a tall, lean man named Wilson, came into the dining room.

"Sir," he said in his annoyingly nasal voice, "someone requests an audience with you."

Mr. Malfoy had been momentarily stunned. Surely it wasn't the Ministry of Magic again, as their last raid on the manor (which had proved yet again a failure), had only been last month.

"Pray tell, who is it?" he had asked, wiping his mouth on a napkin. Wilson had shook his head.

"They said to never mind the name, Sir. She said that it was someone important, though," Wilson explained.

Mr. Malfoy drummed his fingers on the tabletop. It wasn't the Ministry, then. They always identified themselves with some sort of mock-regal speech. He thought it rather funny when Cornilius Fudge tried to use authority.

"She? Well, she must be selling something. Tell her that we don't accept solicitors," he had ordered. Wilson nodded and went to do Mr. Malfoy's bidding.

Mr. Malfoy had just returned to his breakfast when Wilson came back. "She says she isn't selling anything, Sir," Wilson meekly explained.

Mr. Malfoy looked at his wife. "You don't have any calls for tea, do you, Abigail?" he asked her. Abigail looked at her husband and shook her head.

"No, Lucius, I have not. I would have told you otherwise," she explained. Mr. Malfoy then turned to his son.

"You didn't call anyone over, Draco, did you?" he asked.

Draco, who was having a momentary brain lapse at the moment, shook his head in a similar manner to his mother's. He had forgotten that this was the fourteenth and Celeste was supposed to be coming over.

"No, Father," he explained simply. This made Mr. Malfoy all the more irate at being disturbed from his meal.

"I don't give to charities unless required. Tell her that," he snapped. Wilson flinched, and then hurriedly scampered out of the room.

Yet again, Wilson returned to the dining room less than two minutes later, trembling slightly.

"She claims that she's not from a charity, Sir. But, she does want a word with your son," he explained, nodding to Draco.

Mr. Malfoy was now terribly confused. First this person wanted to speak to him, and now she wanted his son. Who was this early-morning caller, anyhow? He shot a glance at Draco, who was sitting obediently, waiting for his father's say so. Mr. Malfoy waved a hand at his son.

"Go on," was all he said. Draco shot out of his seat faster than a rocket, and followed Wilson to the room where the speaker was.

No matter how hard Mr. Malfoy tried, he could not hear a word of what his son was saying over the speaker in the other room, so he gave that up and went back to eating his breakfast, which was now getting cold.

Five minutes later, Draco came back in the room, and sat back down in his chair. Mr. Malfoy put down his fork and folded his hands on the table expectantly, but Draco ignored him. After a few moments, it became evident that Draco wasn't going to tell his father anything about the visitor, or at least, not without a little prompting.

Mr. Malfoy cleared his throat loudly, and Draco looked up at him.

"Yes, Father?"

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Don't play ignorant with me, Draco. I don't like it, and you know it."

"You mean the caller?"

"You know very well what I mean."

"She requested to speak with you. I told her that you weren't exactly available right now and she said that she would try again another time," Draco said, fiddling with his fork nervously and refusing to look his father in the eyes.

Mr. Malfoy had his eyes narrowed to aggravated slits and was drumming a finger on the table loudly, making it sound like a metronome.

"A very interesting tale, Draco. I must request you tell it again, though. The truth, please, this time around."

Draco's eyes took on sheen of desperate fear, and he started darting his eyes around the room wildly, as if he would find an excuse etched somewhere in the walls of the dining room. Mr. Malfoy now knew for a fact that something was up. What was so important about this girl, anyhow? And why was his son so afraid of telling the truth?

# # #

As soon as Celeste walked through the front door of the manor, it was like a gigantic black monster was swallowing her up. It was so dark and dismal, even more drab than the fog outside. The air was hot and heavy, and she could feel her heart pounding in her throat.

_Get out of here, while you still can_, her brain screamed at her. _Get out, get out, get out before it's too late._ Turning around, Celeste put her forehead on the cool door, and felt the handle dig into her stomach.

Nightshade and Sunsmear, detecting something wrong with their adopted mother, whimpered and butted their heads up against Celeste's legs. Celeste reached down timidly, and felt her fingernails scrape the top of her dragons' heads.

Finally getting the courage to turn around, Celeste studied her surroundings carefully. The inside seemed even bigger than the outside, if that was humanly possible. She was in a large foyer that was about three times the size of the Kormic's entire house. Then there were passages that snaked off in every direction possible, with marble floors and hunter green rugs with gold tassels. Celeste was stunned. All the while when she was living in the street, and being tossed around in several different muggle orphanages, this had been here?

"Can I help you, Ma'am?" came a voice from behind her. Celeste nearly jumped out of her skin, and whirled around.

It was a woman, which held a large feather duster in one hand, and an expensive looking vase in the other. She had gray hair that had been done up in a ponytail, and very dark eyes. She looked Celeste over, and then eyed the two dragons warily.

"Yes, in fact. I'm looking for Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy and er, Draco Malfoy. You wouldn't happen to know where they might be?"

The maid looked behind Celeste, at a grandfather clock. It read nine o'clock, and as if on cue, the clock started to bong out the time.

_Bong.... Bong.... Bong... Bong... Bong... Bong... Bong... Bong... Bong.._

The maid looked back at Celeste and grinned.

"That would mean that it's nine, dear. The Malfoys eat until about nine. You'll catch them all in the dining room, if you're lucky."

Feeling suddenly overwhelmed by the number of corridors and doors that were in front of her, Celeste swallowed.

"Capital. Now, if only I knew where the dining room is," Celeste croaked, feeling sort of sickened. 

The maid cast a glance at the two dragons that were sitting behind Celeste. "Are those dragons?" she asked.

Celeste didn't answer at first. Then, as if the question had just made it to her brain, she replied. "Hmm? Wha? Oh, you mean Sunsmear and Nightshade? Yeah, they're dragons. Arabian Sandwedgers, to be exact."

The maid dropped her jaw in shock and bewilderment for a moment. Then she regained her composure.

"They're housebroken, right?" she asked.

"What?! Of course they are. What kind of a question is that?" 

"Just a wary one, Miss. I don't want to be cleaning up after them if they aren't. Come along, then, I'll show you to the dining room."

# # #

"Ummm..... err, she said that, err..." Draco babbled on, just trying to buy time. Where in the name of God was Celeste, and what was taking her so blasted long?

Mr. Malfoy was not in the least amused by his son's resistance to him. _A couple of seconds more_, Mr. Malfoy thought as his anger increased, _I'm going to explode_.

Draco cringed as his father stood up suddenly, knocking his chair over. A few quick strides and he was looming over his son menacingly.

"It isn't that hard of a question. Don't make it more difficult than it has to be, Draco Lazarus," he rasped warningly.

God, I hate it when they use my middle name, his brain thought in defeat. It was true. In nearly every household, when a parent uses a child's middle name, it means that the child is normally in for a tongue lashing at the very least. The Malfoy's manor was no exception.

Draco was about to give up and answer truthfully, but perhaps today was his lucky day, since a servant appeared in the threshold of the door.

"Mr. Malfoy, a young lady is here to see you," the servant said boldly. 

Mr. Malfoy totally forgot about his son and quickly whirled around. A warm flush of relief passed over Draco's features now that his father was otherwise occupied.

"Who is it, Ampala?" Draco's father demanded. Ampala shrugged.

"I don't know. She didn't tell me her name. Shall I bring her in?" Ampala asked.

"Yes," Mr. Malfoy ordered.

"Dearie, you can see him now," Ampala called to someone that was behind the doorframe.

The first thing that entered by Ampala was a dragon. A bright purple one, with eyes greener than emeralds, and claws shiner than brightly polished spoons. It looked at Mr. Malfoy curiously and then at Draco. It pointed and snorted at Draco, obviously pleased to see someone it knew. It simpered up to him, and butted up against his leg. Draco gingerly touched the top of its head.

"Hello, Nightshade," he said carefully, trying not to set it off. Nightshade gave him a toothy grin before climbing up on the table to eat the remnants of Draco's breakfast.

"Draco, do you know that... that thing?" Mr. Malfoy asked, pointing to Nightshade, who was now lapping up a pitcher of milk.

Before Draco could answer his father, another dragon entered. This one was a blazing orange, with deep crimson eyes. It flexed its claws before snapping at Mr. Malfoy, and bounding around the carpet, trying to get up on the table. Mrs. Malfoy screamed.

"Get these things off of my table!" she wailed to nobody in particular.

"Quiet, Abigail!" Mr. Malfoy snapped back at his wife. He turned to Draco. "Do you know that one too?"

"Sunsmear," Draco mumbled into his robes.

"Do you know their owner?" he asked his son pensively, trying to remain patient.

The only response that Mr. Malfoy got from this was his son looking at him innocently. Finally, Draco turned to the doorframe and nodded slightly towards it.

There was nothing there. For a moment, Mr. Malfoy wondered if this was all just some big joke. Then, there was the unmistakable sound of a single footstep clattering outside of the door. A black boot was all that was visible at first, but then the figure slowly slid into view. 

It was an odd picture. The person was wearing a long, flowing robe in a copper shade, which attached in the middle, and had large, regal-looking sleeves. In the right hand of the person was a long wooden shaft with a cracked crystal on the end. In the left hand was a small bag, undoubtedly filled to the gills with clothing.

Then Mr. Malfoy saw the complexion and features of the person. It had long, silver-blond hair that was wound into a tight braid. Ice-blue eyes blinked in a pointed, pale face that stared back at him balefully.

Mr. Malfoy needed no introductions. Nor did Mrs. Malfoy. They both knew whom they were staring at, they knew very well. Of course, they had not seen this person for a good fifteen years, but they still knew.

Meanwhile, Celeste's brain was running rampant in her skull. Just what, exactly, did you call the people who gave you life, and then abandoned you for some reason or another? Mother? Father? Mum and Dad? Jackasses? What?

The only sound in the room was the pair of dragons eating. Mr. Malfoy had a look of pure surprise and a hint of fear frozen on his features. Mrs. Malfoy had gone deathly pale, and had a hand on her heaving chest. Celeste was still and silent as a statue. Draco, however, was waiting breathless for the rest of the drama to unfold.

Seconds ticked into minutes, and the minutes fell into nearly a half hour before anybody moved, or spoke. Even the servants, especially the ones that were close enough for a good view, watched with silent interest.

Celeste shifted in her spot, and met Mr. Malfoy square in the eyes.

"I'm back."

# # # 

It had taken a great deal of research, but Craggle and Snare had finally been able to pinpoint the place where Celeste was spending the summer.

"Sssshe'ss ssstaying at the Kormic ressssidence," Snare mused while pointing at a house on a magical map.

Craggle nodded. "Sssshould we try for a ambusssh at her houssse? It might be easssiessst." 

"Who said anything about this being easy?!" Synthia snapped from behind them. Snare and Craggle nearly jumped out of their reptilian skins when she said that.

"Ssssynthia, you ssscared usss," Craggle said while clutching his throat. Synthia scoffed.

"Get used to it. Actually, though, you might have hit on something there. She's probably not expecting us to strike so soon after the first failure. All right, you have my permission, you mangy reptiles. Go!" she commaded.

The reptiles disappeared.

# # #

The problem with that plan, however, was that Celeste wasn't exactly at the Kormic residence anymore. Luckily for Craggle and Snare, (or perhaps, lucky for the Kormics), the Kormics had gone out for the rest of the day after Celeste left. As much as they wanted to say otherwise, the three of them had become very fond of the light-skinned, blue-eyed girl, and missed her presence sorely. They decided that a nice trip to the city was in order.

The pair of reptiles broke into the home quite easily, but was dismayed to find nobody was in the house. They tore apart the house, upturning tables, tearing apart doors, and shredding curtains for people that might have been hiding.

Finally, they gave up.

"You know, Sssssnare, I don't think that sssshe's here," Craggle said, trying to twist the top off of a jar of pickles.

Snare sighed and took the pickles from his partner. Inserting his sharp claws, he neatly cut the top off of the jar, and handed it back to Craggle.

"I don't know what we're going to tell Ssssynthia," he said disdainfully.

Craggle had taken the entire jar and dumped its contents, pickle juice included, down into his mouth, and was now chewing noisily.

"You worry too much," was all he said as he gnashed the pickles in his mouth, spraying juice all over the place.

Snare just sighed again and reached over the table for a box of cereal. Tearing the box into halves, he started shoving cereal down his throat.

"Maybe you're right," he said, smacking his scaly lips loudly.

# # #

Mr. Malfoy wasn't sure whether he needed a tranquilizer, or a death curse. All he wanted to do was to crawl into a hole and stay here. Or perhaps make this girl leave. Maybe he could appearate to some far off island in the Caribbean and live out the rest of his days there. Whatever it was, he wished that he were far from here.

"Celeste, right?" he asked faintly. Celeste nodded.

"Right... you're Lucius Malfoy, aren't you?"

Mr. Malfoy nodded, looking at Draco. "Do you know her?" he asked.

"Yes, Father. I met her at the beginning of last school year," he answered smartly.

"She attends Hogwarts?! But... but... She's a Squib... Isn't she?" Mr. Malfoy protested. Celeste nodded.

"In technical terms, yes. But I have animal magic, better known as Wild magic, I suppose. That's why I attend," Celeste said softly.

There was more silence, until Mrs. Malfoy spoke.

"Are you to be staying with us the rest of the summer?" she asked.

"Yes," Celeste replied.

"Ampala?" asked Mr. Malfoy, who was still staring at Celeste. "Take her to one of the spare rooms," he ordered.

Ampala bowed slightly and nodded to Celeste.

"Come with me," she instructed Celeste. Celeste followed her out, and the dragons followed after Celeste.

Mr. Malfoy looked from his wife to Draco, and swallowed.

"Is this a curse or a blessing?" he asked.

Draco couldn't tell if this was a rhetorical question or not, but he thought it best not to answer.

# # #

Three weeks after Celeste had come to the Malfoy residence, Draco thought that he had a decent answer to the question his father had proposed earlier. Celeste coming back 'home' was more of a curse than anything. The deep boom and crack of Lucius Malfoy's upraised voice could usually be heard in some area of the manor, which was responded by Celeste's shrilly high-pitched reply. _Those two_, Draco often thought, _just cannot get along on anything! Though it is to be expected, since she was upbrought by muggles..._

According to Lucius and Abigail Malfoy, their daughter was a total slob. She had atrocious table manners (she kept on mixing up her salad and fish forks up, and didn't sit up straight enough), she was far too outspoken, disagreed with everything that they said, and wasn't very polite in the first place. If you got them started on Sunsmear and Nightshade, they could go on forever about how ungainly and loud they were.

Celeste's opinion on her father and mother wasn't much better. They seemed to have nothing better to do than nag at her and her dragons, for some stupid reason. Who really cared what fork you used at the table, as long as you were using a fork? Why were there so many blasted forks to eat with, anyhow? You only needed one. Celeste was a very outspoken person, and she hated the silly rule that 'children should be seen and not heard at all times'. That was one of the rules that she frequently broke.

And the rules! There were so many for high-class society! Every little thing that Celeste did had a rule. It seemed that when she turned her back on something for one minute, she was breaking some ludicrous rule that made no sense at all, or at least to Celeste they didn't. 'Don't do this', and 'Don't do that'. It was driving her insane!

Poor Draco was stuck in the middle of all of this. As much as he liked his sister, he was beginning to regret when he invited Celeste to the manor. It was like trying to mix oil with water when he tried to get them to stop yelling. Moreover, it was giving him a splitting headache, just living in the same house with Mr. Malfoy and Celeste.

Once, he had gotten up the nerve to take a peek at one of Celeste and Mr. Malfoy's heated arguments. When he cracked open the door for a look, he nearly fell over.

The resemblance between the two when they were angry was uncanny. They both had pink tinges at the apples of their cheeks, both were in the same battle stance; feet planted firmly on the ground with one fist clenching and unclenching angrily, as if they were going to start a brawl right in the parlor. They both were fighting to impale each other on frosty glares, Celeste's an icy-blue, and Mr. Malfoy's a frigid, sleety gray.

_She is so Father's child. Can she see it? Does Father see it? Does Mother? I do_, he thought to himself amusedly.

"I'LL WEAR WHATEVER I WANT TO WEAR!!" Celeste screamed. It was at this moment that, Draco noted with disgust, she was wearing muggle clothes. His father wasn't going to like that.

"I WILL NOT TOLORATE THAT KIND OF CLOTHING IN MY HOUSE, CELESTE...." Mr. Malfoy trailed off. Draco barely stifled a giggle. It was obvious that his father was trying to use Celeste's middle name, but he didn't know it.

"WHO DIED AND MADE YOU KING?!" shouted Celeste right back in his face. Draco nearly smacked himself. If that were him in Celeste's shoes, he probably would have died of fright on the spot. Mr. Malfoy could be very frightening when he was angry, even adults quaked under his menacing stare. But Celeste seemed unfazed.

"_NOBODY_ HAS TO DIE TO MAKE _ME_ KING OF _MY_ HOUSE!" Mr. Malfoy thundered in response to this saucy remark. In reality, though, he was quite taken aback. He couldn't believe the disrespect that he was witnessing from his own daughter, even if she had been gone for nearly fifteen years.

"PARDON ME!" Celeste screamed in an overly sugary tone. "_KING_ LUCIUS!!" she finished, throwing herself to her knees and bowing over so low that her forehead touched the ground. "I SEEM TO HAVE FORGOTTEN!"

Mr. Malfoy said nothing in reply to this. From his doorway perch, Draco had to shove his fist in his mouth to keep from cracking up. It was quite obvious that his father was somewhere between deciding to kick Celeste in the head or keep on screaming at her. The anger on his face was replaced with one of wondering bewilderment as he stared at the kneeling girl in front of him. Finally, Mr. Malfoy whirled on his heel and stalked out of the room, muttering to himself.

When the other exit to the parlor was slammed shut, Celeste got up off of the ground, grinning slightly. She had won that round. _But_, she thought to herself sadly, _there's going to be a lot more battles before the war is over._

She noted that Draco was standing in the doorframe, and nodded to him. "I don't know how you do it," she remarked stiffly to her brother. Draco raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean? Do what?" he asked. Celeste jerked her head towards the door that Mr. Malfoy had just exited out of.

"Live here. With them. I can't stand it, and I've only been here for about a month," she croaked, as her throat was starting to get very sore from all of the yelling that she had been doing lately.

Draco was hurt. "They're my parents, and yours too, Celeste! Don't you think you're being a little, well, rash?"

Celeste raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me?" she asked, with a dangerous clip to her voice. Draco ignored the sour touch.

"You haven't even really tried to get along with them. All you do is argue. You know as well as I do that Father isn't going to give in," he finished sensibly.

"Oh! I see!" Celeste snapped tartly. "So I'm supposed to conform to what that...that man you call 'Father' thinks is a perfect daughter, am I?"

Draco, seeing that he had unwisely prodded a sore spot, shook his head. "No, that's not what I mean at all!" he cried, raising his voice.

"Then what DO you mean, Draco Lazarus Malfoy? Be a little CLEARER for you dear old sister, why don't you!? She hasn't memorized the Malfoy commandments yet!" boomed Celeste.

Draco winced. _It's bad enough when they use your middle name, but your whole name......!_

Celeste took that stumble of words and moment of silence to finish her spurt of anger. "I'VE HAD IT UP TO _HERE_ WITH THIS ENTIRE FAMILY!!" she screamed, whirling around on her heel in a similar manner to her father's, and left the room.

Draco didn't follow after her. Celeste had obviously inherited Mr. Malfoy's terrible temper, and he didn't dare risk the wrath of more of it.

# # #

Meanwhile, in another part of the world, a girl about Celeste's age was pouring her wrath out on another group of people, but for a very different reason.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE WASN'T THERE?" asked Synthia angrily. Craggle and Snare winced before answering.

"Sssshe wasssn't! I don't know where ssshe'ss at, Missstresss!" Craggle whimpered. Snare nodded.

"We didn't ssscrew anything up this time!! Honestly!" Snare pleaded pitifully. "Ssshe jusst wasssn't there!"

Synthia looked at the two cowering creatures in front of her, and sighed, scratching the back of her head. It was a fun sport, but yelling at Craggle and Snare wasn't going to get her very far. Shaking her head, she removed her hand and looked at the two reptiles.

"Find her," Synthia hissed in a dangerous voice. "I don't care what you have to do, but find her!" she cried.

Snare and Craggle nodded hastily, and bolted out of Synthia's sight.

# # #

The next morning, Celeste awoke with a splitting headache, and rolled around in her soft bed, trying to go back to sleep. She was dreading the day that was set before her, and was not willing to fight the battles with Mr. Malfoy that she was going to have to fight. It was worse than yanking snarls out of her hair in the morning, or pulling teeth.

Finally, she got up and eased out of bed, careful not to disturb her dragons and pulled on some clothes - some muggle clothes, and grabbed her staff. Her father was going to have a fit, but she wasn't going to give her father the honor of seeing her face today.

Being cautious to avoid the servants and not to awaken the rest of the family, Celeste wormed her way out of Malfoy Manor.

As soon as she shut the door behind her and carefully relocked it, she felt the first rays of the sun meet her face. Celeste sighed. How much she had missed that sunlight while being confined in the darkness of Malfoy Manor.

It wasn't much of a sunrise yet, a few streaks of red ran through the sky, breaking up the dark night, and the stars were staring to retreat into the safety of the night, which was fading fast.

Picking up her pace to a trot, she started away from the manor - towards the sun, enjoying it's warm presence on her face. She was only going to be gone for a day or so, it wasn't going to be forever. Of course, Mr. Malfoy (she sure as sure wasn't going to call him 'Father', much less 'Dad'), would be irate, but Celeste couldn't have cared less. She needed a break, and she was going to get it, hell or high water.

As the manor disappeared behind her, strange thoughts entered her head, unanswerable questions that bothered her to no extent.

_Celeste Malfoy, you ungrateful girl. You wanted your real family and a real home all of your life, and you got it. Now you're running away. Didn't you want to be home_? she thought to herself.

_But, is this really home?_

# # #

_Ev'ry day's an endless stream_

Of cigarettes and magazines.

And each town looks the same to me, the movies and the factories

And ev'ry strangers face I see reminds me that I long to be,

Homeward Bound,

I wish I was,

Homeward Bound,

Home, where my thought's escaping,

Home, where my music's playing,

Home, where my love lies waiting,

Silently for me...

Writers notes: That was, well, interesting. Do you like so far? I hope. I also hope that this story isn't too much longer, for I'm running out of stanzas for this song. Oh well. I'll figure out something later. Happy reading and such!

Disclaimer: Dear God, I really hate disclaimers. I wonder what would happen if I claimed to own Harry Potter. Would they really sue? Probably. I don't really want to find out. Ah, well, everything in the Harry Potter books is not mine, and everything that isn't, is.


	3. I Will Survive

Draco could not understand his father's erratic mood swings that day. They were impossible. He'd be screaming at the servants, screaming at his mother, screaming at him to go and find Celeste, and then in the same breath he'd tell anyone who would listen that Celeste was not to set foot in his house ever again. It was almost as bad as when Celeste had been here, with the exception that now Mr. Malfoy was yelling at everybody else, instead of at his daughter.

"I have a headache," he complained to himself as he slouched in a chair, watching his father run a rut in the floor.

"Never would have.... Ungrateful little..." Mr. Malfoy muttered under his breath, seething. He was always seething at something, even when there was nothing to seethe about. In the core of him, so it seemed, there was an endless pit of rage, waiting to be set off at a moment's notice. It even got to the point that it was said that Lucius Malfoy had no fuse. He simply exploded on a regular basis. This 'new' daughter of his didn't help this condition much.

Draco bored of watching his father pace, as it made him dizzy, and his headache was getting worse by the moment. Leaning back in his chair, a thought hit him. Why didn't he try and use his telepathic link with Celeste? That might help.

*Celeste?* he asked timidly.

Nothing. There was no sound of her voice, and the woodsy feeling that he got when Celeste spoke through her mind was not there. Instead, there was an odd resistance, like he was trying to pry a top off of a jar. No matter what he tried, he couldn't get past the barrier.

When he next opened his eyes, he felt oddly damp. Wiping his hand against his forehead, he started when he saw three little beads of moisture on his forefinger. He had been concentrating so hard on the linking that he started to sweat with the effort. Getting up, he went to change, leaving his father wearing a trench in the rug.

# # #

Celeste sighed with exhaustion. For the last half-hour, she had been battling with her brother, so she wouldn't have to deal with his presence. It was very hard, like she was holding forty corks underwater at the same time, and she was now to the point of crumpling on the ground.

It was now around nine in the morning, and she had been walking for about three hours. Between fighting a mental presence, and walking, not to mention that she hadn't eaten yet, she felt like she was going to die at any moment.

It was odd, being without Sunsmear and Nightshade, and Celeste didn't like the feeling. She felt bad about leaving them behind, but felt it nessasary, or she wouldn't be able to blend in with the muggles very well. She had already gotten some strange stares from other early-risers about her staff. Thinking about it made her grip the stick of wood tighter. The dragons she might be able to live without for a few hours and she could get along without talking to Draco, but there was no way she was going to leave her staff behind.

Finally, Celeste knew when she could walk no more. _All right, that's it. You're sitting down right now, Celeste Diana. RIGHT NOW,_ her brain ordered her. Her legs furthered the message by burning painfully. Resentful at the shape she was in, she fell down on a sidewalk bench.

"Happy now?" she muttered to herself, not caring if anyone happened to overhear. She sat there for about five minutes, until there was a sound behind her.

"Right, Carl! You can't beat me!" came the playful squeak of a female voice. Turning around, Celeste saw that she was facing away from a muggle high school. Wondering why she hadn't noticed it before, she averted her attention to the figures on it.

Beyond a fence that was made of loopy wire twists, and around ten feet tall, there was a field. A large, green one, that had two large metal goals on each side of it, and there were three kids running rampant through the grass and kicking a ball around.

_Football,_ thought Celeste fondly, sitting up and leaning on her staff. _How long's it been since I've played that?_ (Note: She means soccer. Football=Soccer in England, if you didn't know...)

One of the foster homes that Celeste stayed at (before the Kormic's), was with a family named the Tranni's. The Tranni family was obsessed with sports and football in general, and that's when Celeste developed a love for the sport. She had left the Tranni residence when she turned nine, and she was sorry to leave. When she became a witch, she discovered Quidditch. Quidditch was okay, but...it wasn't football.

Celeste watched the three kids kick around the football, until there was another voice behind her, this one of different specie then the children playing football.

--Football, football, football!-- came the screech from behind her. --Funfunfun!--

Celeste whirled around so fast that she nearly upset her staff. In fact, the thing that was speaking to her was actually sitting on the staff.

A gigantic black bird was sitting on the top of it, its powerful talons grasping the crystal on top of the staff, black beady eyes looking at her curiously with its head cocked off to the side. It was obviously a crow.

--Err, yes. Funfunfun,-- Celeste replied back nervously. The crow was so surprised to her Celeste speak back to it, that it actually fell off of the crystal, and toppled unceremoniously to the ground. Celeste gasped and reached over to pick up the bird.

It grappled her forearm nervously. --You speak speak speak? You no feather flyer flyer flyer. How you speak so so so?-- it asked.

Celeste giggled at the way it repeated the last word of every sentence. It reminded her something of the goose in Charlotte's Web.

--I was born with it, I guess. How do you know about football?-- she asked.

The crow shifted its weight from claw to claw. --Me no spend life with fingers over head head head. Ground walkers play on green every other sleep rises rises rises.--

It took a bit for Celeste to decipher that, but she assumed that the crow overheard about football from humans and these people played here every so often.

Celeste looked up, and saw a large metal sign that loomed over part of the fence. It read:

****

FOR SCHOOL USE ONLY. NO TRESSPASSING.

From looking at that sign, and at the ten-foot fence that spanned as far as the eye could see, almost, this school meant business. But looking at again at the children playing inside the field, they didn't seem to be school affiliated.

--You have name name name?-- the crow asked, interrupting Celeste's thoughts.

--Celeste,-- Celeste remarked offhandedly. --Yours?--

--Renegade Renegade Renegade,-- the crow said proudly. --They call me Rene Rene Rene.--

--Umm,-- Celeste replied, only half listening. --You wouldn't happen to know how they get in there, would you?-- she asked, pointing to the children, who were still running around on the field.

--Tree tree tree,-- Rene said, nodding toward a tree with low hanging branches, which extended over the tall fence.

Celeste nodded. --Thanks.--

Rene hopped up onto her shoulder. --Rene go with Celeste Celeste Celeste. Celeste might fall fall fall,-- the crow said in a motherly voice.

Celeste snorted slightly. "I don't think that there would be much you could do if I fell out of a tree," she muttered, but started towards the tree, with Rene on her shoulder.

# # #

Elizabeth Drosh was having quite an enjoyable morning. It was like religion. Every Sunday morning, while others were attending Mass or synagogue, she and her two brothers, Carl and Matthew, would sneak onto the high school football field and play. It wasn't really sneaking on anymore, really. Despite the large sign and the foreboding fence, nobody cared if three kids played on the greens, as long as they weren't vandalizing anything.

As Elizabeth was two years older than Matthew was and three years over Carl, she was on her own team, as usual. They never kept score, or really used the goals. Elizabeth was perfectly happy to run circles around her brothers and deke them out.

"'Can't touch this, Matt!" she taunted her brother as she ran up to him, teased by letting the ball roll in front of her by a few feet, and then quickly pulling it back when he came to try and snatch it away.

"Stop showing off, Dizzy!" Matt wailed as the ball was pulled away from him yet again. 'Dizzy' was the favorite nickname of Elizabeth.

Elizabeth flashed him a sauntry smile, and then moved around Carl, who just giggled with delight as he watched his sister dribbled the ball down the field, from foot to foot, back and forth. Left, right, left, right, left, right, it flew, as Elizabeth sprinted down towards one of the goals.

She wound up to kick the ball into one of the nets, but the ball had a dreadful spin on it, and it bounced off of her foot, flying in the wrong direction.

"Fizzlesticks!" she cried, watching the football fly away. It landed in the tree that they climbed in to gain entrance to the field.

__

Snap! Snap snap snap!

Elizabeth winced at the sound of breaking twigs. She hoped that the branches weren't damaged too badly, or they'd have to scale the gargantuan fence.

Suddenly, there was a loud shriek, and a large black bird soared out of the foliage. It encircled their heads, not unlike a hawk circling its prey. Nervous, Carl and Matt edged closer to Elizabeth.

"I-It's not going to eat us, is it, Dizzy?" asked Carl. Elizabeth shook her head.

"No. Crows don't eat humans, you know that, silly."

Carl was about to ask another question, when Matt pointed to the tree again.

"Look!" he cried.

Elizabeth did look. What she saw was another girl, looking about her own age, jumping out of the tree.

She had long, white-blond hair that was braided in a tight plait, with non-descript blue jeans and a black shirt. In her right hand was an odd looking stick. In her left was the football that had been kicked into the tree. The crow landed on the stick, and cawed at the air. Elizabeth wrinkled her nose, racking her brain to recognize this strange girl. She didn't think that she lived around here.

Celeste, meanwhile, was regarding the three people in front of her with her icy stare. The two boys looked back at her with fearful green eyes, and the younger one was sucking his thumb nervously. Celeste's main attention, however, was focused on the girl.

She was wearing a red jersey with the name 'BYFA.' British Youth Football Association' emblazed on the upper left chest. She was also wearing shiny red football shorts, red socks that undoubtedly concealed a pair of shinpads, and old leather cleats that were caked with mud from use. Her black hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, and light brown eyes looked at her suspiciously. Her face was dotted with freckles, and she was incredibly tan.

_She has 'sporty' written all over her face_, Celeste thought. 

"Is this yours?" Celeste asked, holding out the well-loved football, Elizabeth nodded and took if from her.

"Is that, that thing your pet?" asked Elizabeth, nodding to Renegade.

Celeste shrugged. "In a matter of speaking, yes." Renegade squawked at the indignity of being labeled a pet, and Celeste giggled.

"Name?" asked Elizabeth bluntly. "I haven't seen you around here before."

Celeste broke into a grin that was so wide, that Elizabeth was afraid that she would split her face. Celeste was pleased to hear someone being rude for once. It was refreshing after being trained in manners for the last three weeks.

"Celeste. If it means anything, this is Renegade," Celeste said, motioning to the crow.

"I'm Elizabeth, and this is Matt and Carl. Do you live around here? I haven't seen you."

"I don't live here. I'm in for a week to visit my cousins," Celeste lied.

"I see." Elizabeth dropped the ball and started bouncing it off of her foot repeatedly, and then kicked it to Celeste, who caught it.

"You play football?" asked Elizabeth. Celeste grinned, and threw the ball back.

"Do I ever!" she said, winking. 

The next hour consisted of tearing up the football green to try and steal the ball from other players. Celeste couldn't match Elizabeth's ability to ball handle, but she wasn't half bad either. When Celeste knew that Elizabeth had her beat, she liked to stop and watch the red white and black blur that was Elizabeth sprint down the field and rocket the ball into the back of the net. It was a fun game to play.

"I'm spent," Elizabeth finally said, keeling over. Celeste smiled. She had been 'spent' for the last fifteen minutes, but had been too proud to admit it.

"I'll see you later, then I guess," Celeste said, picking up her staff and dusting it off. Renegade landed on her shoulder. 

Elizabeth frowned. "You busy today Celeste?" 

"Err, I guess not," Celeste said. She really wasn't sure exactly what she was going to do after this.

"D'you think your cousin, or whatever, will mind if you come over for lunch?"

Celeste smirked, and crossed her arms. "What if I'm a mad serial killer that is waiting for my chance to chop you up into little bits? Do you think it's wise to invite me over for lunch?" she asked.

Elizabeth, much to the protests of Carl and Matt, smirked right back. "I could outrun you any day."

Celeste grinned. She liked this girl. "Probably. All right then, where do you live?"

# # #

Synthia drummed her fingers on the floor of the cave as her nervous subjects whimpered on about how they couldn't find the whereabouts of Celeste. In reality, Synthia was just keeping the angry look on her face to see her minions cower. She wasn't angry. She was to exhausted to be angry.

"Just shut up," Synthia groaned. Craggle and Snare did as they were told. "Has it ever occurred to you half-wits that she might not be living at the house she was at before? Maybe she has a summer house."

Snare and Craggle still said nothing. It was best not to interrupt when Synthia was musing.

Synthia rolled her head around on her neck. She desperately needed a back massage, but there was no way she wanted one from either one of her king-sized sleezeballs that called themselves her servants.

A relevation hit Synthia like a slap in the face. Her blue-green eyes bulged in her head, and she leapt off of the floor.

"Snare. Didn't you say that you accidentally picked up the wrong kid at Hogwarts? What if she's related to the kid?"

Craggle looked at her tiredly. "What are the posssibliltiesss of that?"

Synthia glared at him. "How many people have white-blonde hair and pale skin? Do the math, dunderhead. It would be different if she had brown hair, or something."

"Sssso, you want usss to find out who this kid issss?" Craggle asked, sounding tired. 

"Yes. And I have an easy way to do it, too," Synthia said, ignoring his bland remark. Walking over into a corner, she rustled around in a bag, until she produced a very water-stained, torn, practically ruined leather book. She tossed it to Snare.

"That's a Hogwarts yearbook. Look around until you find the girl," she ordered. Muttering something, she took her snapped wand and pointed it at the thin book. The book started to stretch and grow before Snare and Craggle's eyes, until it was about as thick as a dictionary.

"We have to look through all of thissss?" Snare asked disdainfully.

Synthia nodded. "It would have been easier if you could have ambushed her earlier. But now you have to go in the back door. Happy searching." With that, Synthia left.

"Asss if it wasss our fault that ssshe left," Craggle snorted, flipping open the thick book to the first page.

# # #

Ever since they had gotten up, Sunsmear and Nightshade had been incredibly discontent with everything and everybody. They had already knocked over three porcelain statues, shredded the velvet curtains in the dining room, and had burnt nearly half of Mrs. Malfoy's wardrobe beyond wear. They were angry and resentful about being left behind, and were not afraid to let the world know about their predicament.

_I know the feeling_, Draco thought. _The least that she could have done was left a note, or something, telling the dragons that she was okay. I knew she didn't like it here, but... _

He sighed. This had been nothing but a disaster since it began. Now it had snowballed into a gigantic, flesh-eating monster that was tugging at everybody's nerves. Not that the Malfoy house had ever exactly been a model family to begin with, but now it was fifteen times worse. Mr. Malfoy was becoming something of a schizophrenic, Mrs. Malfoy was brusque and edgy, Celeste had been uptight and snappish, and Draco himself was feeling the brunt of all of this stress that was constantly on his family.

_And now Celeste's gone, and everything has fallen apart at the seams. This hasn't worked out very well, has it?_

Draco smiled ironically at his aloof thoughts. He was beginning to wish that Celeste had never come into his life. No sister, no family problems. Maybe it all would have been better if Celeste was still living with the Kormics, or still thinking that she was a muggle. It would have been best if Draco had never heard the name Celeste Malfoy, and went on being the only child of Lucius and Abigail Malfoy. Ignorance was bliss at times. This was one of those times.

Then came the guilt. Draco didn't feel guilt often, and he hated it when he felt it. No matter how much he didn't like the fact the Celeste caused family rifts, nobody who was a witch deserved to live out their lives as a dirty muggle.

_I'll try communication one more time. Then maybe I can work something out with Mother, Father, and the other family that Celeste liked so much, so Celeste can leave. It'll be easiest, on everybody. _

*Celeste, for the last time, answer me. For the last God forsaken time, ANSWER ME!* he screamed into his skull. The sound bounced around a few times, and was gone. Now all there was to do was wait for the response.

# # #

Celeste had been walking with her newfound friends to their house. They lived about a mile away from the school, but nobody really minded the walk.

That was when she got an immense pressure on her skull, which meant that Draco was trying to communicate with her. The pressure was harder than normal, which startled Celeste. She fought back with all of her inner strength she had. Her head began to feel like it was wedged between two concrete slabs. Something had to give. Something had to.

There was a snapping sound inside of her brain. Celeste stopped dead in her tracks. Elizabeth, Carl and Matt stopped to stare. Even Renegade examined her with curious black eyes. Celeste didn't care, however.

To see if everything was okay, she tried to communicate with Draco.

*...............* was all she could do.

Celeste panicked inside. The link between Draco and herself had been snapped, and all that was left was static and fuzz. For the first time in a long time, she felt alone. Even with three people - four if you counted Renegade - with her, she felt alone.

"Is something wrong?" asked Carl, looking at her oddly.

_Yes, something is wrong! Celeste thought. Something has just snapped in my brain, I'm disconnected from my brother, I don't know where I am, and I'm totally reliant on almost total strangers! And you ask if something's wrong?!_

Celeste didn't say that, though. She gave a weak smile and shook her head.

"No. Nothing's wrong. Nothing at all."

# # #

"I think we've found it," Snare said, plopping the book in front of Synthia.

"I'm listening," was the response Synthia gave him.

"She's either the ssssisssster of Draco Malfoy from Sssslytherin, or Ssssamuel McNulty from Ravenclaw," Craggle said, showing her two pictures of boys with white-blonde hair.

"I haven't seen either of these boys before. You two are the ones that kidnapped the wrong person, not I."

"Well," Snare mused, "ssshe looksss more like McNulty, but the persssson we took looksss more like Malfoy."

"Why don't you try and find the girl, then? You'll see her last name," Synthia suggested obviously. 

"Why didn't we do that in the firssst place?" asked Snare. Synthia shrugged.

"She's probably not in there. She's only been there for half a year."

"I didn't ssssee anybody that looked like her in there, and we looked through the entire thing."

"Doesn't it say if they have sisters?"

"I don't know, Ssssynthia. I can't read print that sssmall."

Synthia glared at Snare and grabbed the book from his fingers. She mumbled through the small print and her eyes widened.

"It has to be Malfoy. McNulty has three brothers. I think that the girl was in Slytherin, anyhow."

"Sssso, you want to find out where the Malfoyssss live?" asked Craggle sadly. Synthia nodded.

"Yes."

Snare, who really didn't want to go out again, thought fast.

"Don't you think that thisssss ssssearch might go a little....easssier if we knew where we were looking?" he asked.

Synthia stiffened slightly. "Excuse me?" she asked.

"Sssshe might not be at the Malfoy house. Sssshe might be....at the ssstore. It might be better if we knew exactly where we should go," Snare fumbled.

Synthia opened her mouth, but didn't say anything. 

"You have a point. All right, leave me, and I'll figure something out," she snapped, gathering her too-large robes in her fists and walking down into the depths of the cave.

Craggle looked at Snare. "That," he said sincerely, "was probably the fasssstest thinking that you've ever done."

Snare glared at him. "Thanksss," he said sourly. "I didn't expect it to work sssso well, though."

"Are you complaining?"

"No."

Craggle slung a reptilian arm around Snare's shoulders.

"Then let'ssss make the bessst of it, and ssssee what there issss to eat."

# # #

Mapleton was a generic suburb. Parks, libraries and the occasional elementary school were scattered throughout the neat streets of prefab houses.

After being led through several mazes of roads, they ended up at the doorstep of a green house with an even darker green door and shutters. In a vain attempt to add color, there were tulips and carnations in a flowerbed, but the bed was unkempt and trampled several times, so it seemed. Various toys were scattered over the lawn, and on the way up the walk to the house, Celeste had to kick away several bits of sidewalk chalk, matchbox cars and beachballs to clear a path.

Elizabeth put a hand on the tarnished brass knob to the green door, and turned around, throwing a sideways glance at Celeste.

"I'm warning you, it's a zoo," she said wanly. Celeste giggled, and Elizabeth threw open the door.

The first thing that greeted Celeste when she stepped over the threshold was a blast of air conditioning and noise that seemed to hum through the house like some sort of odd current.

Following Elizabeth's lead by kicking off her shoes, she looked around. She was in the kitchen, and it looked like a warzone.

The sink was piled three feet high with dishes; soggy cereal was plastered to the insides of plastic bowls like lumpy paste. A milk carton lay on its side, a puddle of white milk dowsing most of the floor. The rest of the tile looked like it had been wiped with a muddy mop, and little green toy soldiers were scattered about, most of them with their heads chewed off. The table was covered with last week's newspapers and unread magazines.

Celeste covered her mouth and giggled with horror. Elizabeth giggled right along with her. Matt and Carl plopped on the floor and began playing with the chewed-up plastic soldiers. Celeste didn't say anything more until there was a voice.

"Who 'dat, Dizzy?" asked a young-sounding squeak.

Celeste whirled around to see a small girl, looking no older than four peering at her nervously. Shiny black hair was done up in pigtails, and tied with pink ribbons, and large green eyes blinked behind an adorable pair of glasses. In her right hand she held a yellow blanket, and she had the first two fingers of her left hand in her mouth.

"This is Celeste. Celeste, this is Suzy," Elizabeth explained shortly.

"'Ello, C'les'e," Suzy said shyly before waddling off to go play toy soldiers with her brothers. Celeste watched her go.

"How many siblings do you have, anyhow?" she asked. Elizabeth stifled a giggle.

"Too many. Lets go in the living room."

Celeste followed Elizabeth into another room. This one had brown berber carpeting that looked like it had been run into the ground by a steamroller. A worn brown couch, straight out of the seventies lay against the wall, and green velvet high-backed chairs sat across from the couch. A southwestern-style rug was pinned up against one side of the white wall, and stringy lace curtains were limply thrown over cheap curtain rods. The entire effect was so clashed and gaudy looking that it was wonderful.

Three boys were sitting in front of a television set, playing Super Mario Kart on the Super Nintendo, while an adult read a magazine.

"Those aren't all your siblings, are they?" Celeste whispered, horrified. Elizabeth just grinned again and shook her head.

"No. The one in the middle with the black hair is my brother, Kevin. The other two are his friends, Stacey and Marvin. That's my dad, Ken Drosh."

Speaking for the first time since the football field, Renegade huffed. --It's too loud here for my taste taste taste.--

The three boys and the adult looked up at once.

"Wow," Stacey gawked. "Is that crow yours?" he asked Celeste.

"Err, yeah..."

Before anyone could do anything else, Renegade flew out the window, squawking back to Celeste.

--I'll stay out here here here,--

Celeste giggled. "She'll be back. Hello everybody. I'm Celeste."

Elizabeth sidled up to her. "I met her at the football field today. She's eating lunch with us," she stated, before dragging Celeste off.

"Too many people in there. Let's go to my room."

Celeste staggered along behind. "Suzy, Carl, Matt and Kevin? Please say that that's all," Celeste begged.

Elizabeth opened her mouth to answer, but she was cut off by a loud squeaking noise, like a badly tuned instrument, and that was followed by the arguments of two voices.

"Sadly, no. The owner of that...err.... lovely clarinet is my older sister, Lindsay. The other voice trying to teach her to play is my mother, Caralella Drosh. That's my whole family, to everybody's relief."

Celeste grinned and Elizabeth stopped before a white door, decorated with various bumper stickers with obscene sayings on them. Elizabeth sighed and picked at the corner of one.

"I just got my own room last year. I'm warning you though, it's very small," Elizabeth said sadly.

Elizabeth pushed it open, and Celeste nearly fell over. To say that Elizabeth's room was small would be an understatement. There was a bed stuffed in a corner, a dresser and a nightstand with a radio on it, and that was all the furniture. There wasn't room for anything else. The space from the bed to the door was probably three feet at the most. Celeste remembered her gargantuan room at Malfoy Manor and felt bad.

Elizabeth flopped on her bed, making it shake. "This used to be the linen closet, and I am not kidding. Enough of my complaining, though, what do you want to do? It's going to be another hour until lunch."

Celeste stood awkwardly in the doorframe until she took the step that was necessary and fell onto the bed and its white comforter.

"I have no idea. What do you want to do?"

Elizabeth stared at her for a couple of moments, as if contemplating something. "Blue," she finally said.

Celeste raised her head up. "Excuse me?" she asked.

"Your color would be blue. You should wear more blue," she said, a malicious grin spreading on her face.

"Uh-huh," Celeste said, beginning to get nervous.

"I have the best idea," Elizabeth said.

"Now I'm really scared," Celeste replied.

"Beauty parlor! Oh my God, we have to play that," Elizabeth demanded, groping under her bed and pulling out a small makeup case.

"Umm, I don't do makeup," Celeste said, eyeing the eyeshadow as if it would come out of its case and give her the bubonic plague.

"Come on, Celeste! You would look so good in blue makeup. You'd get some color into that skin of yours! Please?" Elizabeth wheedled.

Celeste gave a suffering sigh before replying. "Fine. I get to wash it off right after, though," she said sternly. Elizabeth gave her a look of injured innocence before throwing out a tube of lipstick.

# # # 

Lunch at Malfoy Manor that day was not fun. Both of Draco's parents were unusually irked, and ate in stony silence. Draco tried his best to squash as low in his chair as humanly possible, and tried not to say anything to set either of his parents off.

There was a roar, a sound of scampering far off in the mansion, and then the splintery sound of something smashing to the ground in billions of pieces. Wincing, Draco turned to his parents, waiting for the acidic remark that was sure to come from one of them any second now.

They remained silent.

Draco wasn't sure if this was any better than an explosion of temper. It probably would have been better for Mr. Malfoy to leap up and go storming off angrily, or it would have made Draco more comfortable, at least. This angry silence was pressing into him like sharp knives.

"Lovely weather today," Mr. Malfoy remarked coolly, eyes ablaze with silver fire.

Now Draco was terrified. His father never talked this calmly. Something was terribly wrong, and he had a very good guess what it was.

"Yes, lovely indeed," Mrs. Malfoy said back, just as toneless. Draco didn't like all of this nonchalant small talk. He wished that lunch were over. The second hand on the grandfather clock seemed to tick so slowly!

Abruptly, Mr. Malfoy flung his napkin into his plate and stalked off. Mrs. Malfoy got up and primly walked out the other exit to the room. Draco sat there; staring at the empty table and the servants that came to take the plates away. The static that was in his brain hummed loudly, as if complaining. Finally, Draco got up and followed the suit of his parents by abandoning the dining room.

# # #

"Here," Synthia snapped shortly, throwing a roll of parchment at Craggle, who picked it up and examined it.

It was a map of the entire London area and it's suburbs. On it, hundreds of thousands of little black dots roamed. Oddly, four of them were green.

"What is this?" asked Snare.

"What does it look like?" Synthia sneered.

"A map," Snare dumbly answered.

"Now I know he has half a brain," Synthia mumbled to herself while rolling her eyes back in her head.

"I mean, how do you work it?" Snare asked, trying to be more specific. Synthia sighed and pointed to the mass of black dots.

"The black dots are the people that live and work in the area. The green dots are the Malfoy family. There are four of them."

It was true. Amid the seemingly millions of millions of black dots, there were four little green dots floating around. Three of them were clustered in one spot, while the other was a city away.

"Which one is the girl?" Craggle asked. Synthia squinted at the piece of ravaged parchment.

"That one," she said, pointing to the lone green dot. "See the little gold forcefield around it? She must be at a friend's house. Is that explained clearly enough for you two blithering idiots, or do I have to write out detailed instructions for you to follow?" Synthia asked in a high, sugary voice like she was talking to a group of two-year-olds.

"We've got it, Sssssynthia," Craggle muttered viciously, while eyeing his mistress and testing how sharp his daggers were.

"Good. Be off with you," Synthia ordered.

With a muttering of magical words and a loud pop, Snare and Craggle were gone.

# # #

"Celeste, you look so good," Elizabeth proclaimed while sweeping rouge over Celeste's pointy cheeks.

"I bet," Celeste mumbled. She didn't like makeup at all. It was too itchy, but Elizabeth forbade her to scratch it even a little.

"Stop being so fussy," Elizabeth ordered, backing up and surveying Celeste with a critical eye. "You're missing something.....I know!"

Elizabeth did some more rummaging through her makeup case, and came out with a little vial of what looked like blue mascara.

"Hair mascara. My friends wear this stuff all the time. I can't, though. My hair's too black," she explained, twisting off the top and grabbing a small fragment of Celeste's hair.

As she drug the small mascara brush through Celeste's thick hair, Celeste reached up and scratched one of her cheeks. She hoped that Elizabeth was almost done.

"Done!" Elizabeth proclaimed, pulling away. "Oh, Celeste, you do look pretty. You really really do," she sighed dreamily.

"Can I just take a look at myself now?" Celeste asked grumpily. Elizabeth had not allowed her to even take one little peek at herself while she had been working.

Elizabeth handed her a small mirror, and Celeste looked into it. She stared at the girl that looked back.

Slivery-blue eyeshadow was swept over her eyelids lightly, making her sapphire eyes appear that much bluer against her pallid skin. Pink blush settled at her cheekbones, and delicate carnation-colored lipstick had been smeared over her nearly white lips. Black mascara over her eyelashes made them appear thick and full, and Celeste batted them playfully at herself, giggling at the stupid look it gave. The streak of blue in her white hair stood out beautifully, and Elizabeth braided it back into her plait.

"It feels yucky," Celeste finally said, running her tongue over her lips, wincing at the bland taste of the lipstick. "But," she admitted, "it is pretty."

Elizabeth clapped her hands together. "You look like a hand-painted doll! You should wear makeup more often. It suits your face well."

Celeste was about to reply, but was interrupted.

"LUNCH!" came the echoing call of Mrs. Drosh. Elizabeth nodded.

"Come on. You can take off the lipstick after lunch," Elizabeth ordered, grabbing Celeste's arm. Celeste grabbed her staff and followed as Elizabeth drug her out of the room.

# # #

"I think that thisss iss it," Snare said while carefully pouring over the map that he held up to his nose.

"What are we ssssupposed to do? Do we kill her, or do we bring her back to Ssssynthia?" Craggle asked, scratching his head.

"I don't know. Better play it ssssafe and bring her back," Snare sighed. Craggle nodded.

"Ssssafe is best. Do you think that it'ssss thissss housssse?" he asked, pointing to a green house with dark green shutters, and toys scattered all about.

"It hassss to be. Look, we're the red dotsssss," Snare said, pointing out their location on the map.

It was true. Two red dots were hesitating at the walkway to a house with eight dots in it. One of the dots was green with a goldish aura around it.

Craggle shrugged and walked up to the house.

# # #

Lunch consisted of a large pot of Campbell's Chicken Noodle soup, and fresh baked biscuits. As it was nearing one in the afternoon, Celeste thought that she had tasted nothing better in her life.

Lunch was not a quiet affair, as it was at the Malfoy residence. With seven other people at the table (Stacey and Marvin had gone home), it was quite loud and messy. Nobody asked for anything, everybody just lunged over the table and grabbed whatever they wanted. In the first five minutes, Suzy's milk had been upset twice, a food fight had erupted between Kevin, Carl and Matt, and since Lindsay had brought her clarinet to the table, that had been dropped and broken into pieces three times.

Over all of the turmoil, Celeste grinned. If she could construct a perfect family, this would be it. In a house that was too small that you bumped into each other constantly, you always had somebody to argue with, or talk to, and they cooked soup by the potful. Celeste was finding this enjoyable after three weeks in the eerily silent Malfoy Manor.

"I'm so sorry," Elizabeth sighed, after Celeste got hit in the nose by a half-eaten biscuit. Celeste smiled and threw it back at Carl, who grinned and ducked as the bread whizzed past his ear.

"It's okay!" Celeste laughed. "It's all going to be okay!" Elizabeth stared at her, but then decided that it was nothing, and dropped the questions that came to her mind.

About ten minutes later, when things had quieted down a bit, the smiling Mrs. Drosh turned to Celeste.

"So, Honey, I don't believe that we've been introduced yet."

Celeste looked around at the table of black-haired people and blushed. With her incredibly light hair, she stuck out like a sore thumb.

"I'm Celeste, Mrs. Drosh," she said timidly. Mrs. Drosh laughed and shook out her hair.

"Call me Cara, sweetcheeks. Everybody does. Well, Celeste, welcome to my mess of a house."

"It's not messy. It's well lived in," Celeste said pertly.

Cara smiled. "A charmer! I think we've got ourselves a winner here, Ken," she said, jogging her husband's arm. Celeste decided that she liked Cara Drosh.

"Where di' you get dat stick at, C'les'e?" asked Suzy, speaking over her fingers she was sucking on.

Celeste looked at her staff, and tried to come up with a plausible fib.

"My cousin bought it for me when he was off in Australia," she said smoothly. She was surprised at how well she could lie. It was a dirty trait, but useful in a pinch.

"I see," Mr. Drosh said. "It's a very lovely piece of wood. Is it a walking stick?"

"Yes," Celeste replied promptly. Suddenly, there was a very hot feeling at the back of her neck, as if somebody had taken a candle and held it to her flesh.

"Ouch!" Celeste cried, clapping a hand to the back of her head. Everybody looked over at Celeste, concerned. That was, everybody except for Suzy, who seemed preoccupied by something else.

"Is something the matter?" Mrs. Drosh asked Celeste, who was massaging the back of her head.

"No, I'm fine.... What are you doing, Suzy?" Celeste asked, trying to change the subject.

Suzy had refilled her small bowl with soup to the point where it was slopping over the sides. Getting down from her tall chair, she grabbed the bowl and looked up at Celeste.

"No-thing, C'les'e. I'm-a jus' gonna give dem dwagons sum zoop," Suzy replied in her baby talk.

The others looked at each other in amusement.

"Little Suzy has quite an imagination.... I say, is something wrong, Celeste?" asked Matt.

The color in Celeste's face had drained so fast that Elizabeth actually looked down to see if blood had puddled at her feet. She was breathing raggedly, and it looked that the icy hands of terror had claimed Celeste in their frigid grip.

Whirling around, Celeste saw Suzy offering her soup bowl to two oversized lizards. They were looking down at the figure incredulously, and the one on the right - Craggle - grabbed the bowl, sniffed its contents, and downed the entire thing in one gulp.

"Yur gonna ge' a tummyache doin' dat. Da' food ain' goin' anywares," Suzy scolded, sounding not unlike a miniscule version of her own mother.

Celeste turned to look at the rest of the Drosh family, and they were staring wide-eyed at the two reptiles. Celeste grimaced and turned to the spectacle in front of her.

"Ssssstupid little girl. Don't tell me how to eat!" Craggle snarled before kicking her rudely out of the way.

Mrs. Drosh gasped and ran over to where Suzy sat, the wind knocked out of her. 

"Suzy! Suzy, baby, are you all right?" her mother asked frantically. Suzy nodded yes, she was more surprised than anything.

"Ba' mon'ters! Didn' you learn any mannors?" little Suzy said, shaking her fist.

Elizabeth was on her feet. "Pick on someone your own size!" she cried.

Snare pulled out a short dagger and advanced slowly on Elizabeth. "Someone like you?" the reptile asked.

Elizabeth backed up until she hit the table. Groping behind her, her hand hit the half-full pot of soup, and her hand closed around the rim.

"YARRRR!" Snare cried, as Elizabeth flung hot soup into his face. Craggle ran up, covering for Snare as he wiped salty soup out of his eyes.

_Thwomp._

Craggle reared back, clutching a soft spot that he now sported on the top of his skull, courtesy of Lindsay's clarinet.

"Gyaaah!" came Snare's battle call as he charged at Lindsay, forgetting momentarily about Celeste.

_Thwomp._

The sound of Celeste's staff connecting with the top of Snare's cranium sounded like a cleaver whacking into a side of meat.

Snare grabbed the long braid at the back of Celeste's head and gave it a vicious yank. Celeste screamed and fell to the ground.

"Forget the fight!" he snarled to the very dizzy figure of Craggle. "We can leave now," he yelled, giving Celeste a vicious kick. 

Celeste gasped with pain and curled around her injured side. Just when Elizabeth was about to hurl the soup pan at Snare's head, when there was a sudden shattering noise and a loud screech.

Renegade had broken through the window in the front room, and was now singing at an earsplitting trill.

Rene zinged between where Snare had a firm grip on Celeste's hair, and Celeste's braid snapped in two. Snare found himself looking at a braided lock of hair that wasn't attached to a scalp.

The crow screeched its loudest, making everybody wince and Snare and Craggle scream with agony.

"Celeste, Celeste you're _bleeding_!" cried Mrs. Drosh.

Celeste scrambled to her feet, and had both her hands pressed to where Snare had kicked her. Removing her hands, she stared at the crimson overcoat they now had. Indeed, she was bleeding.

Craggle snarled a word, making a rather large green fireball come hurtling towards Celeste. Carl had his jaw dropped in awe.

"Wicked," he whispered as Celeste reached behind her. Her hand connected with a glass, and she hurled it at the fireball.

The plastic glass melted into a shapeless blob, taking the green fire down with it. Celeste started to panic. There was no way she was going to be able to fend these two things again. She had been lucky the first time.

"Renegade!" she croaked hoarsely. The black bird flew over to her and landed on her shoulder.

---Yes yes yes?--

Celeste didn't say anything. Instead, she used her magic to press an image of Malfoy Manor, Draco, Nightshade and Sunsmear into Renegade's brain.

--Bring them here!-- Celeste called as Renegade flew out the broken window. --Godspeed. You'll need it,-- she added quietly.

Elizabeth threw a plate at Snare. It missed by a long shot and shattered on the wall.

"Celeste, you've got some stuff to explain," she said breathlessly. Despite the situation, Celeste cracked a grim smile.

She hoped that Renegade would return soon.

# # #

Draco was lazing about in his room, completely blind to what was going on with Celeste. He was very surprised when a gigantic black crow flew in through his open window and landed on his bed.

"Huh? What do you want? Shoo!" Draco cried, waving his hands at the bird. Strangely, though, the bird only hopped impatiently from foot to foot.

"Gaaaaaaaak! Gaaaaaak!" the crow screamed at him, as if trying to get him to understand.

"What?" asked Draco helplessly.

The bird, tired of speaking to him, seemingly, closed its eyes and settled on the bed. Draco was just about to speak to it again, when his eyelids fluttered shut, and yellow flashed.

_Five miles away, stop at a muggle high school. Left three blocks, right two blocks. You'll see a green house with dark green shutters. Bring the dragons, and Draco! _

It had been Celeste. Draco's heart rate increased as he stared at the bird.

"You know where Celeste is?" he asked calmly, though he felt very stupid talking to a crow.

The crow flapped its wings and bounced up and down ecstatically. Draco swallowed.

"I'll take that as a yes. Where are those two bumbling dragons?" he asked. As if on cue, Sunsmear and Nightshade bounded in the room, knocking Draco flat. They growled and snapped at the crow, which answered them in peeps and squawks.

Finally, as if agreement, Sunsmear grabbed Draco by his robes and flung him on Nightshade's back. Before Draco could react to this, Nightshade leapt out the window nimbly, and started pumping her wings. After hovering for several seconds, Nightshade found a breeze that suited her and was off, following the crow.

Draco was now positively sure that he didn't like riding on animals. He didn't care for animals much in the first place, but the Hippogriff escapade and this wasn't helping him much. There was nothing to hold on to, and the back of the dragon was very slick. He almost fell off three times. Not to mention the fact that he felt like an idiot, flying on the back of a dragon.

_Hey! It's something Potter hasn't done yet! I've ridden a dragon, and Potter hasn't. It's about bloody time something happened to me that Potter hasn't done, or done better,_ he thought happily to himself as Nightshade jostled and bumped him around.

# # #

Celeste ducked behind a high-backed green chair as Snare hurled a knife at her. It got lodged in the chair. She sprang up and sprinted away. Suzy sat in the hallway, crying because she had been pushed down by Craggle, and had scraped both of her knees to the point of bleeding. Cursing, Celeste scooped the wailing girl up and ducked into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

"I 'urt my 'nee!" Suzy sobbed. Celeste winced as she put a hand to her side, which was still bleeding.

"I hurt my side. Here," Celeste said, grabbing a box of band-aids and gently smoothing them onto Suzy's scrapes. "Please don't cry, Suzy."

Suzy stopped crying, but her lip trembled, and her body shook.

"What happ'ned? I'm scared," she whispered. The plaintively in the little girl's voice almost made Celeste want to cry along with her.

"It's okay. I'm sorry," Celeste sighed, picking Suzy up and giving her a hug. The warmth in the fat little body made Celeste feel better.

It was at that moment that the door started to rattle, and a knife protruded through the wooden door. Suzy gasped and buried her eyes in Celeste's shoulder.

Cursing because her left arm was full with Suzy, Celeste looked around for a weapon. There was nothing pointy or sharp she could use, but there was a jar of mouthwash in the cupboard.

The door smashed open, and Craggle stood there. Celeste tore the top off of the mouthwash and threw it at Craggle.

The container bounced off of the soft spot he had gotten earlier, and it made his stall just long enough so Celeste could slip by and bolt to the kitchen again, where the rest of the family and Snare was.

Lindsay and Snare were having something of a poorly choreographed sword fight. Meaning that Lindsay was bonking Snare over the head with her clarinet, and Snare was trying to run Lindsay through with his sword. 

Mr. Drosh came up from behind Snare and whacked him over the head with a golf club. That was it for Snare. He fell to the floor, bloodied and unconscious.

The window to the kitchen smashed open again. Everybody whirled around, to find a male clone of Celeste, the crow from earlier, and two more dragons. The boy leapt off one of the dragons, and pointed a stick of wood at Craggle.

"EXPELLIARMUS!!" he cried, and there was a flash of scarlet light.

Craggle, who had been standing behind Celeste with a blade, was knocked into the wall. Nightshade and Sunsmear scampered after him, and bit into Craggle's skin, and charred his clothes. Finally, Celeste stood up.

"Nuuuuugaah!" she cried, making the staff glow yellow. She was too upset to think of any specific spell, but it wasn't needed. As the staff connected with Craggle's neck, yellow fire blazed, and in an instant, Snare and Craggle had disappeared.

Celeste stood there, with her staff in the 'kill' position for a few minutes before turning to the bewildered Drosh family, Draco, Sunsmear, Nightshade and Renegade. There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Umm, thanks....for....lunch," Celeste drawled out.

There was more silence.

"You're a witch, aren't you?" Mrs. Drosh asked in a brusque manner.

"Well..... yes," Celeste replied, not so sure about what to say. "How do you know about them?"

"My brother was one," she said dreamily, as if staring off into the distance of space and time. "My maiden name was Bones. Caralella Bones."

"Bones?" asked Draco, speaking for the first time. "Wasn't that family killed by Voldemort?"

Mrs. Drosh glared at him from a pair of overbright eyes. "Yes. My brother's family was...killed. I won't do anything drastic, if you just fix my house. It's in shambles!"

Celeste sighed. "All right." She tapped her staff against the wall, and shut her eyes. In her mind, every little nook and cranny of the house was displayed to her, in vibrant shades of yellow.

Celeste gritted her teeth and wormed her magic into the foundation of the house. Cracks in the framework were sealed over, fragments of glass were put back in windows, and soup was placed back in the pot.

Opening her eyes, Celeste found herself looking at a puddle of water on the floor. A drop of sweat rolled off her nose and dripped into the puddle.

_It's sweat_, Celeste thought idly as she tried to peel her sweat-soaked clothes away from her body for a moment. When she let it go, it fell back to her body with a squelching sound.

"You got alotta 'splaining to do!" Suzy said, shaking her fist at her mother. Mrs. Drosh sighed.

"I know, dears. Celeste, you should probably be getting back now. It's late," she said heavily.

Elizabeth looked Celeste over oddly, and stared as Renegade settled on her shoulder. 

"I knew you were hiding something. Well, here's my address, and telephone number. Call me, write me a letter, or do whatever you wizarding folk do to contact other people when you get back to your cousin's house."

Celeste took the slip of paper and nodded. "I will. Have fun listening to your mother. I learned I was a witch about a year ago. It's a twisted tale."

Elizabeth gave her something of a lopsided grin, before walking over to her mother in the other room.

Draco looked at her. "Why is your hair so short?"

Celeste felt the ends of her hair. It stopped at her earlobes. "It got sheared off by Renegade - this crow. I suppose that when I was fixing the house, I fixed myself as well," she explained, noting that she was not bleeding, although there was a long scar down her side where she had been kicked.

"Shall we go, then? Mother and Father will not be happy with you, you know," he sighed, as he straddled Nightshade.

Celeste sighed unhappily as she clambered onto Sunsmear. "I didn't expect them to be happy.

The two dragons took off, with Renegade flying inbetween. "Just be forewarned," Draco cautioned as they rose in the direction of the setting sun.

# # #

Synthia slammed her fists against the cauldron, sloshing the spell that was inside around violently.

She shot an irked look over at Snare and Craggle, who were still out cold on the hard rock floor of the cave. They had been utterly and completely overwhelmed.

"If you want something done right, you'll have to do it yourself," Synthia snarled to herself under her breath.

Gathering her robes in her left fist, she stormed off into the darkest depths of the cave to plot.

# # #

T_onight I'll sing my songs again,_

I'll play the game, and pretend.

But all my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity,

Like emptiness in harmony, I need someone to comfort me.

Homeward bound,

I wish I was,

Homeward bound,

Home, where my thought's escaping,

Home, where my music's playing,

Home, where my love lies waiting,

Silently for me...

# # #

Writer's Note: Okay, that was long, a little too fast moving and a bit confusing, but it'll all work out in the end....I hope. If not, I can always rewrite it, but I don't think I'll be doing that anytime soon...Well, please review! (Even though that's the end of the song, the story still has one more part to it.....I'll figure something out. ^_^)

~Moxie ^_^

Disclaimer: Actually, most of the stuff in this part is mine, but whatever is in the Harry Potter books belongs to J.K. Rowling, and everything else is mine, excluding the song, of course.... 


	4. Homeward Bound

Celeste sighed as her father yelled into her ears. Draco was right; Mr. Malfoy had been less than pleased at his daughter's return.

_I wish he'd hurry up. I'm getting a headache,_ Celeste thought idly. _I just went out for a couple of hours. Is it my fault that I can't stand this madhouse he calls his home?_

Glancing by Mr. Malfoy's rages, Celeste saw that a window was open. The outside of it was clear and blue. Inside it was dull and gray. Unless you could count the colorful words that spilled out of Mr. Malfoy's mouth, there was no tangible color, anywhere, so it seemed to Celeste.

Rage surged though her veins like a powerful current. _I want out! I want to appearate and be somewhere else! I want to go....to go...._

Her mind was about to spit out the word 'home', but she couldn't think how to pronounce it. That was one of the words that had lost all meaning to Celeste. Along with 'color', 'happiness' and 'love', 'home' had no meaning. They were just letters printed out on paper that sounded pretty in poetry and stories. Here, at least, they had no meaning to her whatsoever.

_In one ear and out the other,_ her muse rattled on, as Mr. Malfoy kept on berating her. Celeste wasn't really hearing the words that he was saying to her. She could see the angry facial expressions that played over her father's face like acrobats, and she could hear the tone of his voice, but no words.

_Oh Mickey, you're so fine, you're so fine you blow my mind....Hey Mickey! _

Celeste just stopped herself from giggling by clenching her fists tightly and biting her lip savagely.

_It's amazing how at times when you're supposed to be listening and ashamed, that's when ridiculous songs from the eighties pop in your head,_ she thought.

Taking a deep steady breath, she looked her father squarely in the eyes and waited for him to run out of hot air.

# # #

The eye in the storm soon fell upon Celeste and her father. Mr. Malfoy had yelled himself hoarse, and now stood staring at his daughter.

Clear blue eyes locked on his own - steadily, almost impudently, as lips were sealed in a bland, non-expressional stance. She didn't seem scared or fazed in the least by his yelling. Quite on the contrary, she looked bored, like the only reason she was listening to him scream was because she had nothing better to do.

If she had cried and cowered away, Mr. Malfoy might almost have had more patience with her. He was a rather domineering person, and he liked to be in control. It was easy to manipulate people when they were scared of him. It was a lot harder when the element of fear was not there, and it obviously was not there in Celeste.

It was one thing to yell at somebody and have him or her yell back. That meant that you were at least getting some emotional response from the other person. It was quite another when you yell at someone, and they don't do anything except stare placidly back at you. Mr. Malfoy found this worse than arguing with his headstrong daughter. Staring contests were not how he liked to spend his time. Finally, Mr. Malfoy lost his temper to the point where he could no longer control it.

The slap echoed throughout the halls, leaving an eerie note to ring in the silence.

# # #

That was the one course of action that Celeste hadn't expected. Yelling, yes. Getting so angry that her father's face went red, yes. Physical interactions, no.

Letting out a slight wail of agonized surprise, Celeste gently clapped a hand up to her left cheek, which was smarting with pain. Her head started to throb with anger, and her eyes threatened to spill over.

_No!_ her mind cried. _No, no, no, no, no! Don't cry! That's what he wants!_

It was very hard, fighting the instinct to cry and run away while keeping composure, but by some means of willpower, she managed to do it. 

Forcing her head up, she glared at her father with all of the strength she could muster. This would be all over soon. All she had to do was live through it.

# # #

Mr. Malfoy stared aghast. What was the child made of? The average person would have been completely drained of any spirit or willpower by now. He looked at Celeste curiously.

Slightly bloodshot eyes with ice-cold pupils looked back at him defiantly. Her normally pale skin was tinged red all over, and she was occasionally flickering yellow. Lips were set in a stubborn pout, and fists were clenched so tightly that a trickle of blood was running down her palms. Mr. Malfoy had never seen anything like it.

Anger resumed its course in his veins. "Leave. Now," he ordered, pointing to the doors behind Celeste with a finger that trembled with wrath.

Celeste narrowed her eyes. "Gladly," she said snappishly, whirling on her heel. She slammed the door behind her with such force that a little china figurine tipped off of the mantelpiece and shattered on the floor.

Mr. Malfoy stared at the broken china bits for a moment. Then he swiveled around and stalked out the other door angrily, slamming the door shut behind him.

# # #

Draco had been hiding out in his room while Celeste and Mr. Malfoy were having another confrontation in one of the many parlors in the manor. Unlike his sister, he was terrified of his father when he was angry, and thought it best to keep out from underfoot.

There had been silence for five minutes, and Draco was on his way to thinking it was safe to come out.

_Whoom! Crash! Whoom! Smack!_

These odd sounds were not normal sounds for an argument, not even an argument between Celeste and Mr. Malfoy, Draco noted immediately. They were coming from the northern wing of the manor, where all of the gallery objects were.

Curious, Draco trotted out of his bedroom and twined around numerous hallways and stairwells before arriving in the art gallery.

_Whoom! Smack! Whoom! Bong..._

Looking over to his left, Draco saw a golden blur ravaging the hallway. 

_Whoom! Crack...._

Celeste swung her staff as hard as she could into a tall urn, shattering it. Draco stared open-mouthed as servants came to watch the spectacle. Some of them actually started cheering her on.

"That's the last time that I'm gonna have'ta clean that vase, it is!"

"No more dusting crystals for me!"

Celeste picked up a large gem that a statue was holding, and threw it into an empty picture frame, tearing a hole in the canvas as well as breaking the gem in two. It was at this moment that Draco noticed that she was blazing an eye-smarting yellow.

"You'd better stop her," came the gravelly voice of Ampala. "She's going to bring the villa down around our ears if you don't."

Forgetting totally that he was talking to a servant, Draco whimpered briefly as he watched Celeste behead a statue. "Why me?" he whined.

"Because you're the poor bloke that's related to her," Ampala answered crisply.

Grumbling, he stepped out into the line of destruction that Celeste had created in her wake. "Celeste!" he cried. "Celes-"

He had to drop to the floor as the staff 'Whoomed' over his head. Narrowly missing being decapitated, he rolled over, and Celeste firmly planted her staff on his stomach, preventing him from getting up or going anywhere.

"WHAT?" she half-snapped, half-screamed at him. Looking up, Draco was quite frightened to see how crazy-looking her eyes appeared.

"Calm down!" he cried. Celeste took the staff from his stomach and whacked at a pillar with it.

_Whoom! Slap!_

The pillar tumbled to the ground in fragments. Whirling around, she faced Draco again.

"MAKE ME!" she shouted in his face, starting to glow a brighter yellow. Sensing that he was treading on extremely thin ice, Draco tried proceeding with caution.

"I don't think that tearing up the manor is going to do you any good!" he pleaded with her. Celeste glared daggers at him, and raised her staff. For a moment, Draco thought that she was going to hit him with it. Instead, she thumped it into the ground.

"IT MAKES ME FEEL BETTER!" she bellowed. Draco winced as her voice reached its most aggravated peak. He didn't say anything else. Celeste was just as dangerous (if not, more than) his father when he was angry.

Celeste stared at him, feeling anger ebbing. "Get up," she ordered him, offering him a hand so he could get off of the floor. Draco accepted it, and Celeste nearly yanked his arm out of his socket pulling him up. 

Draco looked around incredulously at the destruction that Celeste had done.

"It looks like this place was ravaged by a bloody wind tunnel," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

Celeste picked up a large chip of what used to be a Chinese platter and sighed. "I lost my temper."

"That," Draco said decidedly, "is probably the biggest understatement I have heard in all my fourteen years."

Celeste blushed slightly. Draco noted that her left cheek seemed to be redder than normal blushing would permit. He sighed.

"You got hit, didn't you?" he asked. Celeste, who was kicking shards from a crystal figurine around, looked up.

"Hmmm?"

"Your cheek. You got hit."

Celeste put a hand up to her face. "Yeah. Not a pleasant experience."

"Well, I didn't expect otherwise."

Celeste shook her head, and smiled a little bit, dropping a crystal fragment onto the ground. It fell with a tinkling sound as it shattered a second time. She walked over to the tiny window and gazed out at the blue sky sadly.

"I want to go back to the farm, Draco. I can't stand it anymore," she blurted out, shaking her robes distractedly. "This place is... well, smothering. Stuffy. Oppressive. You may like it, but I don't fit in."

Draco opened his mouth in protest, but then his common sense butted in.

_She's right. Isn't she? You're not happy, Father isn't happy, Mother isn't happy, and Celeste isn't happy. Is it worth the breath to argue?_

"I suppose that you're right," he grudgingly admitted. Celeste looked at him oddly. She had expected a debate for her to stay.

"This has been nothing but a disaster since it began," he continued, joining his sister at the tiny window, feeling a breeze ruffle his hair.

"Amen to that," Celeste agreed.

"You should at least leave on a good note," Draco pushed. "Stay until next Sunday. It's Friday now. Try and get along with our parents."

"_Our_ parents?" Celeste asked with a side-glance at Draco. "More like _your_ parents."

"What? They are too your parents."

"Biological, yes. Emotional, no. They hate me, and I must admit, I don't have much of a fetish for either of them."

Celeste leaned out the window and stretched her arm out. When she pulled it back in, there was a large black crow - which Draco now knew was Renegade - perched on her finger. Celeste ran a finger down its black feathers and crooned to it softly. Nightshade and Sunsmear found the hallway and looked approvingly at the destruction that had been done. Trying out their tails, they toppled a couple of statues and crushed the fragments of porcelain and crystal on the ground into dust. Then they got bored and walked over to Celeste.

She looks like a walking menagerie, Draco thought. _In fact, she's part of that menagerie. This is a manor, no place for animals. Celeste's part animal herself....Father hates animals._

Draco sighed and scratched the back of his head. This would be best for everybody. So he hoped.

# # #

Synthia had ransacked Craggle's knapsack and had dragged out the magicked map that she herself had worked on for three hours. Unrolling it harshly, she slapped it on the ground and piled rocks on the ends to keep it from rolling in on itself.

She was so angry that she was seeing red spots explode in front of her eyes. She wanted blood. The magic didn't matter anymore. There were other beings that she could manipulate easier and use their powers. She just wanted this girl wiped off the face of the planet.

The map fizzed into focus, and Synthia squinted at it. It was a view of the London metropolitan area, with zillions of black dots clouding the space. It took her a couple of minutes, but she finally located the four green dots that were the Malfoy family, and then the one dot with the goldish haze around it.

Looking around, she shifted her large robes around and mussed with her greasy black hair, wondering what to do now. Catching a glimpse of her broken wand, she scoffed. There was only so much you could do with a snapped wand. She needed real power.

Making sure that Snare and Craggle were still out, Synthia shuffled over to the other side of the cave and dug under a pile of spellbooks until she found the one she needed.

It was a small, palm-sized book, a dictionary on magical terms and uses. The book was a tired brown color, and was so generic that nobody would think to give it a second look.

Opening the cover, one could see that the book had no pages. Instead, it was a velvet-lined box that was disguised to look like a book. Inside of the box was a ring.

It was a large ring, obviously meant for a male wearer. The band was golden, with all sorts of strange and exotic dark spells carved into the sides for extra protection and power. The gem in the middle was a split crystal, into a wheel of clear, green, royal purple and jet obsidian. The entire thing shimmered with eerie magic, magic that was never meant to be used at all.

"The Grindelwald family heirloom," Synthia murmured to herself, regarding the ring in silent revelry. "Meant to be used in an emergency only," she whispered.

This was the one and only thing her family had left her, on the day that they were to be taken to Azkaban; her mother leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"Sinny, they know about us. Sinny, do you hear me? I want you to take this ring, and those two servants of yours, and go far, far away. Far away, and don't come back! Never come back, do you hear me? Carry on the legacy of the Grindelwalds, and don't come back," her mother brusquely ordered. 

Synthia had never really liked her family that much; they weren't exactly a loving household to be brought up in. But all her life, Synthia had felt a compelling need to avenge her family from behind their bars in Azkaban. Although she was quite sure that her family was now stark raving mad from the hellish visions that the dementors put them through, Synthia wanted to make them proud.

Pushing all other flashbacks out of her mind, Synthia slid on the ring.

A brilliant flash of color, a slight explosion, and Synthia felt a burning sensation erupt in her stomach. Gasping, she clutched her throat and slumped against the wall of the cave. Power filled every pore in her body, seeping into her bloodstream and mingling with her essence. Pain came along with the power, and she thought she was going to die with the raving fire that seemed to be eating her from the inside. For a moment, she was sure she had died, but then it all stopped.

Suddenly, Synthia felt lightheaded and fell backwards in a dead faint.

# # #

"Question. Why do I have to stay until next Saturday? That's rather long, don't you think?" asked Celeste as she kicked the shattered fragments of a vase into a pile.

"Because there's a socialite gathering here next Friday. I'd imagine you'd want to stay for that," Draco replied evilly, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

Celeste jolted her head up so suddenly that she smacked the back of her cranium on a low-hanging part of the ceiling.

"Socialite gathering?! You mean a formal party, don't you?"

"Yes."

"No way," Celeste protested, rubbing the back of her head vigorously. "I don't do parties. Unless it has the word 'birthday' in front of it, and I get to shove chocolate cake down my throat."

"Come on, Celeste," Draco sighed, exasperated. "You're being so hard to get along with. I'm at least trying."

"What do I have to do?" she asked tiredly. "I don't have to get up and crochet, or something, do I?"

"No, stupid," Draco groaned. "You don't sew at social gatherings. All you have to do is sit there and look pretty."

Celeste laughed, and Draco looked up. "What's so funny?"

"I bet you just _love_ that, pretty boy. Do you get dressed up in frilly dresses and sip tea with the other debutantes of your age?"

"Oh, shut up," Draco snapped. "I swear, I'm almost glad you're leaving."

Celeste walked over and slung an arm around his shoulder. "Not half as glad as I am to leave. Now, you'll have to show me your collection of patent-leather slippers and panty hose..." she trailed off, laughing so hard that her lips wouldn't form the rest of the words.

Draco sighed.

# # #

When Snare and Craggle revived, they noticed a definite change in Synthia's demeanor. She was quiet most of the time, very distant, and at times, almost seemed to glow with an unearthly radiance.

"Sssshe sssseems almossst...I don't know, ethical or sssomething," Snare whispered to Craggle, who nodded.

Synthia sat on a stone, looking into a cracked mug. The mug had some sort of green potion in it, and it burbled and frothed in the cup. Slowly, she tilted the substance up to her lips and began carefully gulping it down.

Craggle and Snare watched nervously as Synthia's body spasmed several times, and a green fog enshrouded her. When the fog dissipated, Synthia sat there, and was gripping the mug so hard that it broke.

Mechanically, she rose and turned to her subjects, and eyed them coolly. "We leave next week," she said robotically before sweeping down the long cave.

"Leave for what?" asked Craggle. Snare shrugged. There was no plausible answer for the way that Synthia was acting these days.

"I don't know, Craggle. I don't."

# # #

Celeste signed her name to the letter with gusto, and handed it to Renegade, who she appointed as her messenger.

The letter was an important one, asking the Kormics if they would mind if she came back to finish out the rest of the summer. She was sure that they would agree. At least, she hoped they would. Celeste thought that she would die if they said that they didn't want her to come back.

--Don't lose that letter, Renegade. It's important,-- Celeste said to the crow. Renegade saluted smartly and flapped out the open window.

Celeste looked out her window. If there was one thing that Celeste honestly and truly liked about Malfoy Manor, it was the view of her room.

It was one of the highest rooms in the house, so she had a bird's-eye view of everything. Quaint cottages, sprawling mansions, and regular houses dotted the ground here and there, and grasses waved lazily in the warm wind that tousled about. The sky was clear and blue, and somewhere, a robin chirped happily. It was as if the world was saying, 'What took you so long? Come back outside, where you belong!' Life was perfect.

She was exaggerating. Life is almost never perfect, but Celeste felt closer to perfect than she had in a long time. Knocking the windows all the way out, she climbed up on top of the desk, tipping over the inkwell. Grabbing the windowpane, she leaned out as far as humanly possible, breathing the sweet harmony of the outside world.

After three minutes, Celeste noticed something-bright red that was hurtling through the air. Leaning back in, she adjusted herself so she could get a better look at it. In a few minutes, though, she didn't need to squint.

A blaze of fire streaked by her, and clattered on the desk. Celeste looked down at it.

It appeared to be a bird of some sort, that was carved out of fire. It flapped its wings, and a burst of color so dazzling it hurt Celeste's eyes appeared. Wincing, she looked at it again, reached out to touch it, but then realized that it might not be the best idea to touch something like this. The oddest thing was, was that Celeste wasn't at all frightened by this odd occurrence.

The bird squawked, or at least tried to. The only thing Celeste heard was an odd ringing in her ears when it chirped. Finally, it preened its left wing, and hopped nimbly onto Celeste's arm.

__

Nuk Ua em ennu en Xu ammu Xu, it said.

Celeste was now hopelessly confused. First, an odd firebird appears out of nowhere, and now it was saying mumbo-jumbo things that made no sense whatsoever. She tried to communicate with the firebird, but suddenly, she seemingly lost all ability to think.

_Nuk Ua em ennu en Xu ammu Xu,_ the bird proclaimed urgently into her mind, as if in a hurry.

Unbeknownst to Celeste, she had gone into a totally frigid state from the moment the bird had touched her. Her body glowed with red radiance, and in the back of her mind, she dimly heard a scream - a human scream - but the rest of her paid no attention to it.

The next thing she knew, her arm was being gripped roughly, and she was shaken out of her trance. The majestic bird riveted Celeste with its stare one last time, before disappearing into thin air.

Celeste had been sitting on her haunches, and immediately fell over from lack of balance. Landing roughly on her forearms, she winced and looked up.

Draco, Lucius and Abigail Malfoy were looking at her with something akin to awe and stupefied fear on their faces, as Celeste stared back at them.

"What did you do?" asked Mr. Malfoy, with a rasping sound to his voice. Celeste's brows furrowed angrily.

"I didn't _do _anything. The bird just kind of came in and landed on me," she snapped. Mr. Malfoy grabbed her wrist and yanked her up to a sitting position roughly.

"Then who did that?" he asked, pointing to the walls with his free hand.

Celeste looked around, and gasped. All over the white walls, and the dark green ceiling were written the words 'Nuk Ua em ennu en Xu ammu Xu', hundreds of times. Thick writing, thin writing, loopy curved writing and blocky printing all over the place. 

"I-I-I didn't do that!" she cried in horror.

"Then who did?"

Celeste didn't know what to say to that. "The bird musta," she sighed. 

"A bird wrote nonsense words on my walls?!" Mr. Malfoy asked, starting to get angry.

"It could've. Look, I don't know, and neither do you. Lay off!" she sneered at him, hoisting herself off the table and leaving the room, with the rest of the Malfoy family staring after her.

# # #

There was a mansion in the desolate landscape of sepia and gray. Celeste ran to it, shrouded in a long white dress and white-patent slippers. Her lungs burned like fire, but she wouldn't stop running.

The mansion doors opened magically for her, and Celeste ran in. As soon as she stepped in the threshold, the door slammed shut behind her, the slam echoing in the empty, pitch-black halls. There was a sound of a lock locking behind her, and that echoed too.

Fighting a sudden rush of panic, Celeste threw herself against the doors, and tried frantically to reopen it. The heavy, large doors wouldn't budge. She screamed, but her throat made no noise.

Turning tail, she fled down the slick marble hallways, running through the darkness, until she found another door.

Opening this one produced a brilliant white room, with hundreds of people swirling around to a slow waltz, all dressed in icily white ballroom attire. A butler in a snowy white tuxedo bowed to her and offered her a drink, which was crystal clear.

Celeste opened her mouth to say 'No thanks', but again, she couldn't hear her own voice. The butler, however, bowed and walked away.

Celeste started pushing her way through the crowd, trying to find a way out, and maybe trying to find somebody, she wasn't sure. The dancers, however, paid her no attention to her and kept on dancing to the slow, eerie music.

Suddenly, a young girl that appeared about her age intercepted her search. Unlike everything else in the room, she was everything but white and pale.

Greasy black hair fell to her mid-back, and cold, hard blue-green eyes looked her over maliciously. She started to laugh, a hard, high-pitched laugh that actually started to shake the white room. Soon, the room and the ballroom and all of its dancers shattered like glass before Celeste's eyes.

Celeste was now standing in what looked like a warzone. The sky was a dark gray, fire was on the horizon, and a wind picked up. It started to rain.

Rubbing rain out of her eyes, Celeste looked around. Bodies were strewn all over the place. Gathering up what was left of her courage, Celeste looked at the bodies.

Rolling over the first body, Celeste found that it was Katelin Kormic. Her brown hair was dirtied and matted with blood, dark fingers of the ominous crimson liquid streaked across her face. Her eyes were open, and glazed over in death.

Her voice made the workings to scream in horror and anguish, but again, she couldn't hear herself scream. Looking around, she saw the other bodies.

Martin and Cindy Kormic, Draco, Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy, Elizabeth, Carl, Matt, Suzy, Lindsay, Kevin, Mr. and Mrs. Drosh, even Nightshade, Sunsmear and Renegade were lying there motionless.

Celeste made to scream again, but no sound came out. Looking down at herself, she saw that the white dress she wore was torn and otherwise ravaged, her slippers were torn through, and she was covered with blood.

The laughing started again. Celeste turned around to see the girl from the ballroom looking gleefully at the destruction before her, which she had created. Seeing that Celeste was still alive, she pointed her wand at her, and muttered something. 

The rain slapped against Celeste's uncovered limbs like whips. She panicked. She shouted something, but didn't hear it. Again, she tried her voice. This time, she heard herself loud and clear.

_"Nuk Ua em ennu en Xu ammu Xu!"_ she cried out. 

Her voice cracked like thunder over the rain and spells and evil. It cut through it all like a knife. Suddenly, she felt pain in her side.

Looking down, she saw that the spell from the girl had hit where Snare kicked her earlier. Looking blearily up at her killer, she saw that she was gone.

Blackness covered her awareness, and the world ceased to be.

# # # 

_Slam!_

Celeste rocketed up in her bed, awakened by the sound.

It was raining and very windy outside and the windows were thrown open by the driving rainstorm and the angry gales that were beating at the house. Celeste eased her way out of bed and made over to the window.

Slamming it back shut again; Celeste slumped against the wall, breathing heavily. That dream had been so vivid it was scary. She wasn't one to believe in dream meanings, and predicting the future, but this had been a different experience all together.

"Just a dream....all a dream..." she whispered to herself, but the sound of her voice echoing around the room just made her heartrate increase.

Trying to shake it off, Celeste hobbled back to the bed. Despite the fact that it was the middle of the summer, she pulled up the heavy green blanket along with the light one she had been sleeping under. Although she wasn't really sure if her body tremors were caused by coldness or not, the heavy blanket gave her an increased sense of security.

Curling up into a tight ball, Celeste tried to go back to sleep. After tossing and turning about for hours, so it seemed, she fell into a fitful half doze. Images flitted across Celeste's eyes the rest of the night, some were repeats of the dream, and others made no sense at all. All Celeste could make from it was that something was going to happen at the party next week, although she didn't know what.

# # #

__

One week later...

He would never admit it. Especially to his mother or father, but he didn't like getting dressed up. Draco Malfoy sat in an uncomfortable high-backed chair, shifting restlessly. It was actually a good tester of self-obedience, wearing uptight clothes. If you sat wrong, they pinched or wrinkled. Even so, they weren't very comfortable to spend a Saturday afternoon in.

Draco looked over at Mr. Malfoy, who sighed and refolded his hands in his lap. They were both waiting for Mrs. Malfoy and Celeste. Draco couldn't figure out why for the life of him, but women always seemed to take three hours longer getting ready than men did. When he asked Mrs. Malfoy, she gave him a freezing glare, and told her that women needed to take their time with their looks.

Finally, Mrs. Malfoy graced their presence, sweeping down the large staircase elegantly. She was dressed in a long, floor-length burgundy gown, with ruffled edges. A brooch the exact shade of Mrs. Malfoy's blue eyes and the size of a goose's egg rested on her chest. Her brown hair was done in her regular tight bun, and she was laden down with makeup. When she swished by Draco, he held his breath to keep from coughing. Mrs. Malfoy always smelt like she fell into a vat of perfume when she was done having people 'fix her up'.

Three minutes later, Mr. Malfoy looked in the direction of Celeste's room. "I wonder where our daughter is," he remarked impatiently. "The party starts in fifteen minutes."

As if on cue, a servant came running into the room, looking very harassed. Keeling over to catch his breath, he bowed hastily. "Master Malfoy," he panted, "your daughter is throwing a tantrum fit to burst!" he cried.

Mr. Malfoy didn't say anything, but he leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes. "What's the problem?"

The servant opened his mouth to answer, but there was a loud shout, and he didn't need to explain anymore.

"I AM NOT WEARING THAT....THAT _THING _YOU CALL A DRESS!" Celeste bellowed.

She stamped down the stairs, a half-score women following after her. One of them was Ampala. She stopped in front of Mr. Malfoy and gave something of a courtsey.

"Master Malfoy, I believe that I speak for all of us when I say that.... We're servants, granted, but not muggle zookeepers." And with that, she left, followed by the rest of the lady servants. Celeste stood, breathing raggedly, watching the servants leave.

"And what is wrong with the dress?" Mr. Malfoy asked his daughter, seeming overly patient. Celeste shook out her robes, and pointed to Mrs. Malfoy.

"It looks exactly like that dress!" she cried.

"What's wrong with that?" Mrs. Malfoy asked, shaking out her skirts angrily.

"What's wrong with that?! I don't want to be a carbon-copy of you!" she cried. 

Draco, who had been sitting there listening, blushed. His tuxedo was an exact copy of his father's save smaller. It was a source of pride for the parental figure when their child was exactly like them or something to that extent.

Celeste pointed to Mr. Malfoy and Draco. "We've already got the _Olson twins_ over there!" she spat angrily.

Mr. Malfoy really didn't want to go to his party worked up and angry, so he just sighed. "What do you want to wear then?" he asked.

Celeste had expected a big argument to ensue after that remark, so she was caught totally off-guard.

"Err, well, I don't know. What do you have?" she asked.

"There's a large closet in the left wing. Be off with you," her father ordered, flicking his wrist at the stairwell to the right of him.

Nobody was more surprised then Draco. Mr. Malfoy and Celeste were actually having something of a civil conversation!

Celeste took a slow step back backwards, looking at her father oddly. "Don't change your mind until I'm gone," she ordered, bolting down the hall like a shot.

Mrs. Malfoy, however, was less than pleased. "What was that all about?" she snapped angrily at her husband.

"Just leave it be, Abigail. Remember what she did to the art gallery? I don't want her to do that at the party," he sighed.

"Forget it. Let's just go to the ballroom, shall we?" Mrs. Malfoy asked sharply.

The three family members swept down the large hallways.

# # #

Celeste added the last touches to her costume, by sweeping iridescent eyeshadow heavily over her eyelids. Taking her lead from Elizabeth, her entire choice of makeup and ensemble was in whites and blues. Inhaling deeply, she stepped in front of the mirror.

A high-waisted, sleeveless white dress billowed at her feet, rustling softly as she walked. Her now very short hair had been adorned by a blue dragonfly named Zeet, (he had agreed to sit in her hair until the end of the party). Something of an itty-bitty white shawl was draped between her elbows, and her feet looked tiny and perfect in white shoes. The only makeup she wore was the silvery eyeshadow, which sparkled prettily when she blinked. All of this white made her blue eyes stand out like bright lights.

"I," she said haughtily to the reflection in the mirror, "should be a model for makeup."

Grinning to herself, she walked stately out of the room.

# # #

The large ballroom was gorgeous. The chandeliers had thousands of candles mounted in them; the flames making the crystal beads that were woven in the candle dance like ballet performers. Rainbows from the crystals had been thrown all over the white walls, illuminating the place beautifully.

And the people! Suits of greens, blacks, scarlet and brilliant azure mingled with the lady's dresses in every color imaginable. The dancers swirled and twirled to the music that filtered through the room. Celeste was quite impressed.

Looking for a group of people about her age, she found them monopolizing the buffet table on the other side of the room. Sweeping over there, she poked her head in the midst of the group.

"Hello, there!" she said cheerily. Pansy Parkinson, who was sipping a cherry cordial, dropped the drink. It splattered all over the floor, and servants arrived promptly to sop up the mess.

"Celeste? Is that you? I-I didn't know you were here. Where's your dragons?" she asked, noting that Sunsmear and Nightshade were not there. Celeste snorted.

"Right. Like they would want to come to a formal party. They saw all the preparing that I had to do, and scuttled off."

"Who's this?" asked a male voice.

Celeste whirled around to see a boy about her age standing there, with jet-black hair and sharp blue eyes, grinning devilishly. 

"I'm afraid we haven't met, miss," he said in an oily-smooth tone. Celeste looked at him incredulously.

"Oh, shut up, Blaise," another girl, named Carabella, snapped. "You know Celeste Malfoy, so drop the suave charade."

Blaise Zambini's jaw nearly dropped to the floor in astonishment. "Malfoy?! No joking? Wow, I didn't recognize you."

Celeste decided it best not to even grace that with an answer, so she reached over and picked up a glass of water on the table.

"Water?" Carabella asked, reaching down to pick up her tiny glass of wine. "You're boring."

"I don't drink alcohol," Celeste lamely replied. "Wine's too bitter for me."

Carabella shrugged, while taking dainty sips of the bubbly pink liquid. "It takes all kinds to make the world go around, I suppose. You have interesting taste in clothes, Celeste."

Celeste looked down at her white dress, making the ruffles whisper as they brushed against each other. "I found it in the back of one of the closets. Do you like it?" Carabella made the motions to spit out the wine.

"An old garment?" she asked, talking like Celeste had raided the local junkyard to find a dress.

"What's wrong with that?" Celeste asked hotly. "It doesn't look worn at all."

Pansy and Carabella exchanged glances. "Nothing," Pansy finally replied airily, returning to her cordial.

The string quartet finished the slow waltz that they were playing, and the polite clapping drowned out the incensed words that Celeste was about to say. Unstopping, the four instrumentalists started to play a more upbeat baroque tune, that Celeste knew was called Brandenburg Concerto Number 3. The waltzers left the floor, and the murmur of talk grew louder.

Carabella and Pansy resumed their talk, and Blaise left to go find some of his friends to talk to. Celeste felt very out of place here, with the formal dancing and polite conversation. Zeet, the dragonfly who had been sitting in her hair, buzzed.

--I don't like it in here. The sky is all funny, and too close,-- he whispered. Celeste laughed.

--Feel free to leave,-- she said softly. --I don't like it here either.--

The dragonfly took that as enough of exclusion, and buzzed off of her hair, and out one of the doors. Celeste sighed. She wanted to leave too.

"Having fun?" came Draco's voice from behind her. Celeste put her drink down on a table and sighed.

"Do you want the truth that will make you happy, or the real truth?" she asked, shooting Draco a sideways look.

Draco sighed. "It's not that much longer. Maybe about four more hours at the most." Celeste nearly upset her drink.

"Four hours?!" she cried. "I'll die of boredom by then!"

"You don't have much of a choice."

Celeste huffed. "I'm telling you, I'm not coming back next summer. I can't take this. I can't breathe here," she pouted. "I wish these parties were more exiting!"

She was about to get her wish, although in a left-handed way.

# # #

Snare and Craggle stood like statues in their spots by the cave opening. Synthia had gone into another one of her trances, staring into the cauldron, as if searching for something.

"I can't wait until all of thisss isss over," Craggle hissed to Snare, who nodded.

"I ssswear, it'sss like ssshe's posssesssed or ssssomething," Snare whispered in reply, never taking his gaze off of Synthia.

Meanwhile, Synthia stared, unblinking at the cauldron and the scene before her. It was a large party, and the girl she was after looked bored out of her mind. She was actually starting to debate the wisdom of this action. After all, there were several fully trained wizards there, (in fact, many of those wizards were also fully trained in the Dark Arts), and luck always seemed to follow this dratted girl like a faithful duckling.

"What do I have to lose?" she whispered. "What?" Synthia repeated, rubbing her chin. During that course of action, her droopy sleeve flopped backwards, and she had full view of the ring she was wearing on her thumb.

Studying it intently for a moment, she suddenly broke into a large grin, and fits of laughter. "Nothing!" she cried. "Nothing at all!"

Since this was the first thing that Synthia had said in hours, and it sounded like a crazy being's plea, Snare and Craggle were quite alarmed. Synthia flopped up against the side of the cavern wall; she was laughing so hard.

Abruptly, she stopped. The icy cold sharpness returned to her eyes, and she faced the two reptiles, whose breathing was growing more anxious by the moment.

"Now, we leave now," she ordered, repeating herself.

Snare and Craggle nodded dumbly, and the threesome disappeared in a flash of light.

# # #

Celeste fiddled with the stem of her water glass, wiping off the cold fog that appeared on the outside of it. She was so bored, she thought that she was going to die, or kill herself, whatever came first.

The fast eighth notes of the music came spilling out of the instruments of the quartet, seeming to trip over each other in their way out the door. Celeste put her chin on the back of one of her hands and sighed. 

There was an abrupt knock at the door. Celeste was hardly, even mildly interested. It was probably just a latecomer to this huge, boring party.

"Maybe I can sneak out. You think anyone would miss me?" she mused to herself, taking a sip of water, and instantly gagging. She had drank so much liquid, that she was waterlogged. Yet she needed something to do with her hands.

The knocks came again, this time louder and more instant. Everybody heard it, and the partygoers stopped the monotonous murmur for a moment, to look at the door. Even the musicians heard it, and wavered some notes. Then the party laughed nervously and the talk resumed.

There was one final knock, and the door decided it had had enough, and flew off its hinges. Now there was utter silence in the room, as the quartet stopped their playing to look at the door.

A girl stood coolly there, flanked by two giant reptiles. Celeste and Draco both gasped in horror, but it was Celeste who was most afraid. Here was the girl that had stood in her dreams.

Her black hair hung in lank strands, separated in several segments because it was so dirty. Green-blue eyes scanned the place, with a hint of amusement in them. Across her very, very light complexion hung something of a smirk.

Looking down at herself, Celeste saw that she was wearing white, and was at a party. Gasping she clamped a hand over her mouth. It looked as if her dream was coming true, with a vengeance. 

"Some party," came the voice of the strange girl. "Rude not to invite me, though," she finished airily.

"Ever heard of a bath?" Pansy asked, leaning away from her, covering her nose daintily.

The girl looked at her, and sneered viciously. "Ever heard of shutting up?" she snapped back.

She sashayed down the partition the ladies and gentlemen made for her, looking at each face haughtily.

"I imagine that you've never heard of me before," she sighed, as if she was a famous celebrity. "That's all right. Synthia Grindelwald allows for ignorance... if she's in a good mood."

"Synthia," Celeste repeated under her breath. The name sounded eerily familiar somehow, as if she knew whom this strange girl was all along. So it was this girl that had been attacking her all this time?

Celeste's body jolted violently, partly out of adrenaline, partly out of fear. Her left arm jutted out, knocking her water glass off of the table.

The tinny sound of shattering glass seemed to happen in slow motion. First the glass slipped off the table, then it exploded into shards on the ground, water sloshing all over the place. 

That attracted the attention of the entire crowd, including Synthia. Everybody stared at Celeste for a moment, which was glaring angrily at Synthia. Synthia looked rather pleased.

"Ahh, so we meet in person, Miss Malfoy, was it?" she asked pleasantly, as if she was addressing a good friend.

"Not a pleasure, I assure you," Celeste spat back. Synthia kept on smiling sappily, which made Celeste shudder.

"Not much for manners, I see," she sighed. Throwing a sidelong glance, Synthia noted that the rest of the party was still watching, spellbound.

"Be off with you," Synthia Grindelwald ordered, flicking her wrist. It was like she flipped a switch when she said that. Everybody ran out of the room as fast as their legs could carry them.

Breathing raggedly, Celeste looked about the party for something - anything! - that she could use as a weapon. Maybe somebody had left behind a wand, or...or....

Synthia interrupted her thoughts. "I would find it rather boring just to finish you off, Miss Malfoy," she remarked airily. Celeste involuntarily stiffened.

"So, I'm going to make this more interesting," she mused with herself. Celeste, not quite understanding what she meant, stood rooted to the spot, staring at her foe with hard, unemotional eyes.

Snare threw a knife. It landed about a hairs-breadth from Celeste's toe. "I sssuggesssst you sssstart running," he cajoled her softly, friendly almost, as if they were playing hide and seek.

Celeste's mind had already been trying to decide between the actions of fight or flight. Snare made up her mind for her. With a last glance at Synthia out of the corner of her eye, she sprinted out the door.

Synthia walked over to where Celeste had been standing, and picked up the dagger. Running her finger along the blade, she examined the line of blood that ran down her finger.

"How much of a head-start should we give her?" she asked idly. Craggle had discovered the buffet and was stuffing a croissant into his mouth.

"Ahy'd give 'er a minute or so," he said over the bread in his mouth.

# # #

The partygoers, meanwhile, had fled the house quickly. After the last person had made it through the large iron gates, they slammed shut behind, and started to blaze with black fire. The black fire raced down the entire length of the wall, turning the stone into a sort of obsidian inferno.

Mrs. Malfoy blinked several times, like she was restarting herself. "What...? Where am I? What am I doing outside?" she asked to nobody in particular.

The other people were acting in a similar manner. Draco massaged the top of his skull painfully. It felt like someone had dealt him a hefty whack on his cranium with a bludger club.

"Where's that girl at?" Carabella asked, looking around. "Is she still inside?"

"What about your sister, Malfoy?" asked Blaise, jogging Draco's elbow. "She's not here, either."

"Oh my God," Draco drawled, sounding for all the world like he was drunk. And with that, he started cussing a blue streak under his breath.

"You wouldn't happen to know anything about this, Draco?" asked Mr. Malfoy, placing a hand not-so-lightly on his son's shoulders. Draco fiddled with the cuff of his tuxedo.

"I would, in fact, Father," he replied softly. "It's a long story, though."

"It seems as if we have all the time we need," Mr. Malfoy remarked, looking acidly at the black fire that had engulfed the perimeter of his manor.

Draco scuffed a foot up against the ground. "Well, it really all started when I heard music in my sleep one night," he began.

# # #

While Draco and the others were having something to the equivalent of storytime outside the manor, Celeste was looking frantically for a place to hide. She was indescribably embarrassed to be running, but she knew that she probably would have been dead by now otherwise.

Sprinting blindly around the manor, Celeste managed to get herself lost somewhere in the endless halls of it. Cursing blackly, she stumbled into a room.

It was a spare bedroom of sorts; a dark blue room with a desk, bed, and several tables scattered around the place. But what attracted Celeste's attention the most were the objects on the bed. Nightshade, Sunsmear and Renegade.

Running to the bed, Celeste hastened to wake them up. After a few moments, though, she discovered that they wouldn't wake up. A rush of panic arose in Celeste's throat.

Putting her ear on their chests, Celeste was relieved to find that she could hear the steady thump of their hearts. That meant that they weren't dead, just probably under a sleeping spell of sorts.

"Well, great. Just great," Celeste muttered, thumping a hand on the desk. Unlike the other two attempts to sabotage her, this one actually seemed thought out and planned better.

"Think, Celeste. There has to be a way out of this. Has to be," she sighed. Celeste knew of one way to get out of this, but she preferred the way of not getting killed.

Striding over to the shuttered window, she bust it outwards. Looking around, she saw that she was four stories off the ground, facing the front of the house. The perimeter of it was covered oddly in black fire, and the party was grouped outside, obviously listing to somebody speak.

"Why, hello there," came a voice from behind her. Celeste's blood froze cold in her veins. She turned around to see who the speaker was. It was Snare.

"I thought you'd be here, Celeste," he said softly, standing in the doorframe. "Not much of a sssurprissse."

Celeste found that there was a large lump of sorts in her throat, making it impossible to speak.

Snare raised his reptilian equivalent of eyebrows. "No sssmart remark? No ssstaff to whack over my head? What a sssshame."

In spite of herself, Celeste almost smiled. Snare was obviously trying to sound intimidating, but since he had such a terrible lisp it wasn't working. She still said nothing.

The oversized lizard rattled on, but Celeste didn't hear. She knew that she would probably end up dead or worse before all of this was over with, but oddly, she didn't really seem to care. It was as if this cold stone had replaced her insides, and she didn't feel anymore.

_I wish that he would just hurry up,_ she thought wistfully. _Dying really wouldn't be so bad, if you know how to look at it right..._

Then Celeste realized just how stupid she was being. She was just giving up, for no good reason. This was the scum that abducted her brother, nearly killed everybody at the Drosh's household, and ruined her parent's party, when things were going so well. And she was _giving up?!_

The cold stone in her shattered, and was replaced by a raging fire. The fire seemed to scorch her entire insides, right to the tips of her nerves. The problem with this, was that the fire seemed to burn away her common sense as well.

With a low growl that rose into a scream, she charged at Snare, seeing nothing but yellow spots and the reptile's sneering face. Unluckily for her, however, Snare managed to grab his dagger the second before Celeste tackled him.

White-hot pain seared over Celeste's left thigh. Ignoring it, she swiped at Snare's face with one of her hands. Blood blossomed from gashes in his face as the reptile roared in pain. There was a brilliant flash of yellow, that threw Celeste backwards.

Celeste scrabbled to her feet and looked over at Snare. He wasn't breathing, or moving at all for that matter.

"I killed him," she hoarsely whispered.

There was a sudden pop, and Snare's corpse gleamed a white so bright that Celeste shaded her eyes. Celeste looked at him, only to find that he wasn't there. An empty red vest and a weaponry belt lay there unused. There was a movement under the vest, and Snare the gecko popped out from under the folds of coarse red fabric. The tiny animal took one look at Celeste, squeaked, and scuttled off as quickly as his legs would carry him.

"If that isn't the damndest thing I've ever seen, I don't know what is," Celeste remarked to nobody in particular. 

Looking down, she saw that Snare's dagger was still lodged in her leg. Wincing, she drew the weapon from her flesh, and looked at it. It was a metal blade that was firmly lodged in a hilt of plain wood, well hardened from use. Wiping the crimson coat of blood from the metal, she shrugged. It could come in handy.

That was when she caught a glimpse of her arms. Biting back a scream, she held them up to the dim light that filtered in the room.

They were covered in white fur, about a half-inch thick. It started at the tips of her fingers and stopped at the area where her arm met her shoulder. From each of her fingers protruded a claw, sharp and shiny. Feeling altogether alienated and scared, she swallowed.

Finally, her senses returned to her, and she realized that she probably shouldn't be staying here for this long. Gathering her blood-stained white dress in one hand, she ran out the door.

# # #

Synthia frowned. She hadn't expected on the manor being this big. It was going to be near impossible to find 'Miss Malfoy' in all of these halls. For one thing, Celeste had home field advantage. For another, Synthia didn't know how much longer it was going to be until the Ministry of Magic showed up. Craggle came running up from behind her, and yelled.

"Sssynthia! Ssssnare isss... isss gone!" he cried, holding up a leather strap that had once been Snare's dagger belt.

"Is he dead?" Synthia asked, totally unemotional. Craggle shrugged.

"I don't know. He wasssn't there."

Synthia cursed blackly. "Enough of this," she hissed. Stopping, she held up a hand, the hand with the ring on it, and whispered something.

A rather large black ball of light emitted from it. It floated to the left and back to the right lazily before taking off like a streak down the corridor right in front of them. Synthia followed at a sprint, with Craggle after her.

"What was that?" Craggle panted, looking at Synthia. Her face was twisted into a mask of grim determination as she replied.

"A locating spell. It should take us right to her."

# # #

Celeste was tearing into various rooms; parlors, extra bedrooms, libraries, and several expanses of open hallway. She was in a parlor that was almost never used when a black spell caught up with her. She stared at it curiously, until the door to her left banged open.

In stumbled Synthia and Craggle, keeling over and panting. Celeste's brain fumbled, and couldn't think of anything to do, besides wait for them to catch their breath. When they did, Synthia sneered violently at Celeste.

"Say goodbye," she snarled, and pointed her ring at Celeste. A fast bolt of lightning zapped out of it. Not thinking, Celeste dove to the side, the lightning narrowly missing her side.

A hole was blown in the wall, and rain whipped in. Celeste saw that the eaves of the roof were hanging over the hole in the wall. She grinned. It appeared that the final showdown would take place on the roof of Malfoy Manor.

Celeste poked her tongue out tauntingly at Synthia. "Missed," she jeered. Before Synthia could react, she turned tail and leapt out the hole in the wall.

Later on in her life, Celeste would ponder over how she got such great acrobatic skills in such a short time. In the air, Celeste did something of a twist, and swung out her hand. The extended claws of her hand dug into the wooden shingles of the roof. With that, Celeste preceded to hoist herself upwards.

"After her!" she heard Synthia roar. There was a great blaze of purple light, and lightning split the sky overhead. It looked like this was it.

# # #

"And that's all I know," Draco finally finished, voice sore from all of the explaining.

"You had a _telepathic connection_," Carabella gawked. "Do you still have it?"

Draco shrugged limply. "No. I don't know what happened. I tried to contact her one day - the day that she went missing - and I guess she snapped it."

Pansy hadn't been paying much attention. She was a shallow girl, and conversations that did not include herself made her bored. So it was fitting that she was the first to notice that Celeste was on the roof.

"LOOK!" she cried. Everybody turned to look where Pansy was pointing. The skinny, forlorn figure that was Celeste looked like it would be thrown off the roof any minute by the hurricane force winds, and the driving rain.

"What is she doing up on the roof?" Mrs. Malfoy asked indignantly. Her mascara was running down her face in black floods, her hair a sopping mess, but she didn't seem to notice. Nobody answered her question.

Nobody knew what to say.

# # #

Celeste stood quietly, as her adversary mounted the roof, and assumed a battle pose. Mind registering that she had nowhere else to run Celeste's mouth started spitting out insults in order to buy time.

"Coward!" Celeste cried. "Too afraid for a real fight, you render those that you know could beat you helpless, so you can slaughter them! You are lower than the dirt and mud itself!"

Even in the dim light, Celeste could see Synthia's cheeks go bright pink. "Silence!" she roared. "I do not think that you are in the position to be insulting me!"

"I'll be in whatever position I wanna be in, mop-head!" Celeste spat, not really caring that she was slurring words.

There was a sudden crack; Synthia was trying to do the lightning attacks again. Celeste dove to the side, digging her claws into the wooden shingles to keep from slipping off.

Kicking off her impractical shoes for traction, Celeste righted herself, and looked down. Her white dress was soaked in rain, sweat and blood, changing the satin to a pinkish color. She still grasped Snare's dagger in her right hand.

Synthia shot off another blast of lightning. Quickly, Celeste raised the blade. Being that the lightning was not electricity, but magic, the spell was deflected back towards Synthia and Craggle. Synthia ducked, but the reflected bolt hit Craggle square in the chest. Rearing back, he lost his footing on the roof and screamed as he fell. Then there was eerie silence.

"Shit," Synthia swore. Celeste smiled.

"It's just you and me now, Synthia," Celeste prodded. "Without your little goons to protect you. The way it should be."

Synthia and Celeste were circling each other like a pair of battle hawks, each waiting for the other to strike first.

Finally, Celeste lost patience and charged, splinters stabbing mercilessly into her bare feet. Knocking Synthia over, the struggling pair slid to the end of the roof. Synthia reared up her legs and kicked Celeste in the stomach. Winded, the kick sent Celeste sprawling.

One of the many chimneys kept Celeste from falling off of the roof entirely. She stumbled to her feet, but it was too late. Synthia was upon her, snarling maliciously.

Licking dry lips, Celeste met the gaze defiantly. She was going to go down fighting at any rate. All of a sudden, there was a screech in the air.

A plume of fire leapt out of the chimney, shaping itself into a bird. The magical flame soared in the sky for a few moments, before being put out by the rain. 

Celeste remembered. Facing Synthia squarely, she shouted, "Nuk ua em ennu en Xu ammu Xu!" she cried. "Nuk ua em ennu en Xu ammu Xu!" she repeated desperately.

It wasn't a magnificent spell. There were no dramatic displays of light, no sound effects. In fact, Celeste thought it didn't do anything at all. But, it did.

Synthia's thumb with the ring on it started to itch. At first, Synthia paid it no heed. Then the itching got worse. Finally, Synthia couldn't stand it anymore. Automatically, she took off the ring to scratch her finger.

Celeste saw her chance. Rearing up her left arm, she meant to smack the ring out of Synthia's hand. It didn't quite work out. The ring got caught on one of her long claws.

For a moment, both Celeste and Synthia stared at the ring that Celeste held in her hand. Then, without warning, Celeste threw the evil ring down a chimney.

There was a rumbling from the chimney that Celeste threw it down. Finally, like a geyser erupting, black flames spewed out of the chimney top, exploding it.

A brick struck the back of Celeste's head, and all went black. 

# # #

Celeste had odd, feverish dreams after her confrontation with Synthia. Some of them were repeats of the battle, or her life, and some of them made no sense at all. But there was one dream fragment that Celeste remembered most vividly of all.

She was standing in her wizard robes, and a soft wind carried the soft fragrance of honeysuckle and lilac to her nose. The grounds a fresh carpet of green, and the sky a clear blue made the place seem like heaven itself. In fact, for a few moments, Celeste was quite sure that she was dead.

Sitting down on the grass, she stretched herself out and watched a pair of courting doves flit happily through the air, when there was a sudden flash of color to Celeste's right.

It was the firebird again. It preened its feathers out gracefully, and opened his beak to caw lazily to the sky. When it had gotten settled, it looked Celeste square in the eyes.

_Nuk Ua em ennu en Xu ammu Xu_, it proclaimed.

Celeste sighed. "I know that already," she said. "I used the spell. What else do you want?"

A flash of scarlet and gold over her wrist silenced her. Rubbing at the place where the bird struck her, she winced.

_Nuk Ua em ennu en Xu ammu Xu_, it said again flutely. _I am one of those shining beings that lives in light. You are one of those shining beings that lives in light._

"What?" Celeste had asked helplessly. "I am one of those shining beings that lives in light? Is that what that means?"

_A shining being_, the bird confirmed. He flapped his wings, and in a dazzling display of fire, the bird was gone.

Before Celeste could ponder over what this strange bird said, she noticed that the place she was in was beginning to melt. The greens of the trees dripped down into the browns of their trunks; the blue sky overhead melted down into nothing. As the last of the green grass melted away into the nothingness that was now there, Celeste blacked out.

# # #

Celeste awoke in a very soft spot. Groggily opening her eyes to slits, she peered around her surroundings. She was in her bed, nestled in a cocoon of pillows, blankets and sheets, and dresses in her nightrobes. The window across from her bed was wide open, revealing a perfect blue sky overhead. A soft, sweet-smelling breeze ruffled the curtains.

As soon as she managed to stagger to a sitting position, she was tackled back down again by two blurs that were Nightshade and Sunsmear. They bounced happily on the bed, licking her face ecstatically with their long tongues. Renegade swooped in the open window, with a piece of parchment in her beak. Celeste would have read it, but then the rest of her family bust into the room.

"Look-ie who rose from the dead," Draco said tauntingly. Celeste flopped back onto her pillows and groaned.

"How long was I out?" she asked.

Mr. Malfoy cleared his throat and rocked back and forth on his feet. "If you're being knocked out commenced with the eastern chimney being blown up-"

"It did," Celeste interrupted.

"Then about three days."

Celeste's eyes nearly bulged out of her head when she heard this. Three days! She hadn't been bedridden for that long since she had the measles when she was two.

"What happened?" she asked again, feeling very disoriented.

Mrs. Malfoy sighed. "After you were knocked out, the odd fire occurrence around the manor walls was dispelled. We went in, and found you on the roof, along with that other girl. We brought you in here, and the other girl is in a muggle hospital right now. She doesn't remember anything."

"What?!"

"Total brain damage," Draco elaborated. She forgot who she was, where she came from; the whole shabang. Last time we heard she thinks her name is Nellie Winters. We have no idea what happened to her after that."

"Is she going to stand trial?" Celeste asked indignantly. After all of this, Celeste wanted to see a little justice. Mr. Malfoy shook his head, though.

"She doesn't know what she did. Besides, I think that living as a muggle for the rest of her life is punishment enough, don't you?"

Celeste was about to object, being as she thought that she was a muggle for most of her life, and it really wasn't that bad, but then decided to drop it. It wasn't worth the argument.

There was silence for a moment, before Mrs. Malfoy frowned and pointed to the foot of Celeste's bed, where two geckos were sunning themselves.

"Those things won't leave this house," she said, sounding disgusted. "I think they want to stay with you."

Celeste eased back up to a sitting position, and scooped the two palm-sized lizards into her hands.

They both had green, beaded hides, with long toes and slitted black eyes, like normal geckos. But then Celeste noticed that the one had five long scars over his face, as if an oversized cat had scratched him. Celeste covered her mouth in mock horror.

--One of you wouldn't happen to be named Snare, would you?-- she asked. The lizard with the scars opened one eye and croaked lazily. He climbed up to settle in Celeste's hair.

"I'm gonna look like a walking menagerie," she grumbled. Mr. Malfoy gave something of a half-smile.

"Do you need anything?" he asked awkwardly. Celeste looked up at him curiously and then at her left forefinger. She noticed that there was a claw still protruding out of her flesh, although the rest of her arm appeared normal.

"Why do I still have this?" she asked while making the sharp claw retract. Draco shrugged.

"The doctor said that you'd probably have that the rest of your life. Hope you don't mind, claw girl."

Celeste sneered playfully, while pointing the claw at him. "Shadup, 'cause I know how to use this."

Just for a fling, she decided to try something. *Draco's a brainless giiiiit,* she thought silently. *Draco's a brainless giiit.*

*Now you shadup,* was the reply. It was very scratchy, and distorted, but there was no mistaking that there was a reply. The connection was coming back.

"I think I'd like to go back to sleep," Celeste commented, rousing a huge, fake yawn. The rest of Celeste's family took that as a leave and left, shutting the door behind them. When she was sure they were gone, she reached up and took the paper out of Renegade's beak. Renegade clacked her beak together, and soared out the window, with the two dragons on her claws. The now-gecko Craggle and Snare retreated back to the foot of the bed to resume sunning themselves. Celeste opened the note.

Dear Celeste,

We got your letter, and we would be more than pleased to have you come and finish out the two remaining weeks of summer with us. We worked things out with the Malfoys (boy, did Martin enjoy that one), and they said that you could come back next summer if you pleased. Can you come in about a week? We read about you and you 'adventure' on the roof. It's all over the Daily Prophet. You're famous! Well, we think that you should stay in bed for awhile. And we mean stay there, Celeste. See you (hopefully) in a week!

Love,

Cindy

Celeste put the letter down happily; fingering the corners of it, just to make sure it was real. Leaning back into her pillows, she smiled.

"Home," she murmured. "Home sounds great to me."

And with that, Celeste Malfoy fell asleep.

# # #

__

I'm sitting in the railway station,

'got a ticket for my destination.

On a tour of one night stands, my suitcase and guitar in hand,

and ev'ry stop is neatly planned for a poet and a one-man band.

I wish I was,

Homeward bound,

Home, where my thought's escaping,

Home, where my music's playing,

Home, where my love lies waiting,

Silently for me.

And ev'ry day's and endless stream 

of cigarettes and magazines.

And every town looks the same to me, the movies and the factories,

and ev'ry stranger's face I see reminds me that I long to be,

Homeward bound,

Home, where my thought's escaping,

Home, where my music's playing, 

Home, where my love lies waiting,

Silently for me.

Tonight I'll sing my song again,

I'll play the game and pretend.

But all my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity,

Like emptiness in harmony, I need someone to comfort me,

Homeward bound,

Home, where my thought's escaping,

Home, where my music's playing,

Home where my love lies waiting,

Silently for me.

Silently for me.....

# # #

THE END

A/N: It's the end! ::gasps for breath, and massages her fingers, which are about to fall off:: You like? And no, in advance for any asking, I won't be doing any sequels on the sequel. ::glares at people who are probably looking at me innocently right now:: All right, enough flattering myself. Please review, and tell me if you like. Maybe one day in the distant future I will rewrite this.... But don't go holding your breath on that one. (You'll probably suffocate -_-;;) Thank you all ::waves overly cheerily::

~Moxie ^_^

Disclaimer: You know, if I had back the time I spent on disclaimers, I would probably have back an hour of my life... Every character that was in the Harry Potter series belongs to the fan-tabulous J.K. Rowling, and every other character that isn't mentioned in the Harry Potter books belongs to lil' ol' me.


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